The Journey of Blake Avis
by Ikuinen Talvi
Summary: Blake Avis was just a normal boy until he got his letter from Hogwarts. Now, he'll be thrown into a world he knows nothing about, attend a school he's never heard of, learn about a part of him he's never known, and all of the typical teenage angst. But Dark Forces are moving in the Wizarding World once more. What will happen on Blake's journey? Second Generation. Eventual romance.
1. The Letter

**A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to my first Harry Potter Fic! I'm hoping that I do this justice. I'm planning on writing this from the new generation, and my MC, of course, is an OC. Some of you may find this chapter to be a bit boring, but I found it interesting to write from the perspective of a Muggle-Born. So, onward! I hope that you'll enjoy this chapter, and the story as a whole. Please leave a review if you enjoyed it!**

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A loud screech echoed through the house of Number Eighteen Featherstone End and Blake Avis sat bolt right up in his bed, his heart hammering madly in his chest. The scream, from the sound of things had come from the kitchen. Getting out of his bed quickly and slipping his feet into a pair of slippers, he made his way to the door and down the stairs. Lila, the smoke-colored family cat rubbed against his legs as he headed down the stairs and into the kitchen where he found his mother standing frozen, her blue eyes wide with fear and her black hair still in their bright pink curlers, staring at something on the kitchen table that ruffled indignantly and caused Mrs. Avis to scream once more.

Taking a proper look at the creature on the table, Blake realized that it was, in fact a barn owl. Rolling his eyes at his mother's irrational fear-induced screams, Blake was about to turn around and fetch his father when he noticed that something was attached to the owl's leg, which it had stuck out wearily as though tired from a long flight.

"Get it out!" Mrs. Avis shouted furiously, pressing her plump body as far into the corner of the counters as she could.

"There's something attached to it, hang on," Blake said, rolling his eyes at his mother once again. It was not her fault that Mrs. Avis was mortally afraid of any bird larger than a robin. She had been attacked by a hawk at the age of eleven – the very same age that her son was – while removing what her father thought was an owl's nest in the barn of her childhood home, and the offending creature in front of her reminded her sorely of the many scratches and gouges that she had suffered. She glared at her son as he detached the thick yellowed package from the owl's leg; after Blake had removed what he had realized was a letter, the owl soared through the open window, which Mrs. Avis promptly slammed shut after she was sure that it would not be re-entering her home with the intentions of attacking her.

Just as Mrs. Avis turned to see what it was her son had detached from the owl, her husband walked into the room, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Tall and scrawny, Mr. Avis had graying blond hair and usually bright green eyes though at the moment his usually sleek hair was standing up and his eyes puffy from sleep. Glaring at him, Mrs. Avis walked to wear Blake was reading the front of a letter which had been penned in green ink.

 _Mr. B Avis_

 _The Kitchen,_

 _18, Featherstone End,_

 _Sevenoaks,_

 _Kent_

Flipping the letter over, Blake examined the red wax seal that held the letter closed. A large 'H' emblazoned the wax.

"How do they know I'm in the kitchen?" Blake asked curiously as he broke the seal and opened the letter. His parents seemed just as curious as their son was, for they had no answer to give to him as they watched him remove two thick sheaves of parchment that had been folded in order to fit into the envelope. He laid the second of these pieces of parchment onto the kitchen table where the owl had previously stood, and unfolded the first of the pieces, finding the same green ink that had been used for the address.

"It was delivered by an _owl_ ," Said Mrs. Avis to her husband with an obvious note of disgust in her high soprano voice.

"An owl, you say? Good lord, who thinks to train an owl to deliver the post?" Mr. Avis questioned, frowning.

"They must be nutters," Blake told his parents as he waved the parchment and blinking his large blue eyes repetitively as though the letter's contents were some kind of trick of the light. "They say that I'm a wizard and that I've got to go to this school to learn magic; they're sending someone to explain it all to us at some point today."

"I'll agree with you on this one, son; they're barking mad if they think that's true," Mr. Avis said, his forehead creasing with wrinkles and looking out of the window as though expecting someone to be holding a camera to jump out at them and laugh at their incredulous faces.

Taking the letter from him, Mr. Avis sat down and began to read it while Mrs. Avis resumed the cooking she had been attempting before the owl had come, messing her son's blond hair affectionately as she passed by him.

 _ **HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDY**_

 _Headmistress: Pomona Sprout_

 _(Order of Merlin, First Class)_

 _Dear Mr. Avis,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We know this comes as a shock to you and that you may not, in fact, believe this; as such, expect a representative from the school to call on you at some point during the day that your letter arrives. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

 _Term begins on September 1. We await your owl response no later than July 31._

 _Yours Sincerely,_

 _ **Neville Longbottom**_ _,_

 _Deputy Headmaster_

Mr. Avis snorted once more at the letter and set it aside, looking at the list of books and equipment.

 _Standard Book of Spells, Grade I… a wand… a cauldron… students may bring an owl, OR a cat, OR a toad…_ "Mr. Avis read out loud as his wife put a plate of eggs and sausage onto a plate for him. "They truly are mad. The letter says we are to expect a representative from this school within the day."

"Better call the police, Desmond," Mrs. Avis frowned reading the letter for herself. "We don't need nutcases running around."

However, before Mr. Avis could so much as think about this, the doorbell rang through their house and Lila darted through the kitchen and into the hallway. Sighing, Mr. Avis brushed a hand through his hair and headed for the front door of their home. The moment Mr. Avis had left the room Blake grabbed the letter and re-read it once more. He had, of course, been entertaining the letter as though it could be real. Magic? That did sound lovely, but at the same time full of crazy. He had set the letter onto the table again when his father returned with the post.

"I asked the postman if he had ever heard of someone using owls for mail delivery, and he shook his head and laughed before getting back to his route," Mr. Avis said as his wife handed him a cup of tea.

"Why on earth would you ask him that? He'll think you're the nutter," Mrs. Avis chided as she sipped her tea and took the paper from her husband.

The rest of the morning passed quickly, and slowly the letter faded from both Mr. and Mrs. Avis's minds; their son, however, couldn't help but think about it. Three hours after the morning's incident, he was using his computer to search for this Hogwarts place but was unsuccessful in each endeavor. His mother called him down for lunch just as he was closing the last of his searches for "school of witchcraft and wizardry", and he made his way down to the kitchen where his mother handed him a sandwich.

It happened after lunch. A popping sound seemed to come from just outside of the window, causing Mrs. Avis to jump. Blake started and looked around, and moments later the doorbell of the house rang once more. Mr. Avis went to answer the door and a moment later his head popped into the kitchen, looking serious.

"Jane? Blake? Come into the living room," He said before backing out of the kitchen. Blake gave a look to his mother, but she said nothing and they walked out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Sitting across from Mr. Avis dressed in long bottle green robes was a man that Blake had never seen before. He had long black hair that reached his shoulders, a set of large green eyes set above high cheekbones, and a thin face. He was smiling pleasantly, and stood as Blake entered the room. He offered his hand to Blake, who shook it politely, and then the man turned and kissed Mrs. Avis's hand before sitting down again.

"Hello, it's quite lovely to meet you," The man said in a deep, velvety voice. "My name is Professor Corner. I teach Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Headmistress sends her regards and apologies that she could not be here herself, but there are quite a few Muggle-Born students every year that must be given meetings. Usually, someone would have delivered your letter personally, but Professor Longbottom had an engagement last moment with St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, and sent ahead the letter before asking me to come. I myself would have been here sooner but I was visiting another Muggle-Born by the name of Cassandra Potts."

"You… what?" Mrs. Avis asked, looking bewildered.

"Oh, terribly sorry; I always seem to forget that Muggles have no knowledge of the Wizarding World. Consequently, you'll need to know that a Muggle is a person who has no magical capabilities, as that is what they are referred to as by the Wizarding community. As I was saying, I teach Potions at Hogwarts. The reason I'm here is because Blake here is a wizard," Professor Corner said. "A Muggle-Born is one who is a witch or wizard born to a non-magical set of parents. Magic behaves genetically, so therefore someone on one or both of your family lines must have been magical. It can skip generations, of course."

"A wizard. And how do you expect us to believe you?" Mr. Avis asked skeptically, an eyebrow arched high.

"Well, because for one, I'm a wizard myself," and at this, he pulled forth a long stick of wood. "This is a wand – those of us of magical abilities use them to channel our magic." He gave the wand a flick, and a tray with four glasses of chilled pumpkin juice appeared floating in midair. The three Avis's looked stunned. How was that possible? Of course, there was the explanation hovering about them as the pumpkin juice goblets floated over to them: magic.

"How do you know I'm a wizard?" Blake asked after taking a goblet and sipping it; the juice was delightful and seemed to give him a boost of confidence.

"Oh, your name was taken down at birth. There's an enchantment that records the names of all magical babies in the United Kingdom and Ireland. Besides this, I'm sure you've shown signs of magic as you grew up. Perhaps when you were angry, scared, sad, or exceptionally happy, things happened that you couldn't quite explain," Corner explained.

At these words, Blake couldn't help but think about the time that he had been running away from the school bully Arnold Upton and found himself up in a tree without any recollection on how he had gotten there. Or the time that he had fallen down the stairs when he had been seven and, his father who was a doctor had decided that Blake had broken his arm, but before they had made it into the car his arm had suddenly stopped hurting – almost like magic.

"Now then, at Hogwarts you'll learn not only how to use magic, but to control it. These outbursts of magic have been the unfortunate after-effects of allowing your magic to run rampantly. However, you should be warned that misuse of your magic can result in your expulsion from the school, and criminals will be punished by the Ministry of Magic; all new wizards and witches must accept that, by entering our world, they agree to abide by the laws of the magical community."

"There's a Ministry of Magic?" Blake asked, amazed.

"Oh, yes. We have a Minister for Magic and everything. We are a completely separate government from the Muggle Ministry, of course,"

"Do you operate off of different money, then?" Mrs. Avis asked curiously from where she had been sitting quietly.

"Yes, we operate on a system of Golden Galleons, Silver Sickles, and Bronze Knuts. There is 17 Sickles to a Galleon, and 29 Knuts in a Sickle, meaning there's roughly 493 Knuts to a Galleon," At this, he produced a small bag full of coins from which he extracted one of each of the three coins he had mentioned and passed them over to Blake who stared at them in awe. "I'm not sure of the current exchange rate, but I believe the last time I checked a Galleon was almost equivalent to five pounds." He added to Mr. and Mrs. Avis who had been eyeing the money with confusion.

"So. If he's going to this… school… how is he going to get all of these supplies? You won't find them in London," Mr. Avis said skeptically.

"There is a Wizarding subdivision in London called Diagon Alley where most families in Great Britain will travel to in order to buy supplies. It is actually a part of my job to make sure that you make it there and get everything that Blake will need for his first year at Hogwarts," Corner explained.

"Can we go today?" Blake asked hopefully, looking at his parents. They looked at each other and then glanced down at the list before looking up at Professor Corner.

"How long would a trip take?" Mr. Avis asked.

"Well, typically at least three or four hours, but it shouldn't take up a whole day. You'll have to stop at Gringotts' Wizarding Bank to open an account and to have them do a money exchange since Muggle Money isn't accepted as payment in the Wizarding world. You'll need to visit Ollivander's Wands to get a wand. Speaking of wands, Blake, you aren't allowed to do magic outside of school. It's against the law and it could end in your expulsion. You'll need to get him some robes for school, a cauldron, a standard set of potion ingredients, all of the books on the list from Flourish and Blotts. I would also recommend stopping by Eeylops Owl Emporium and buying an owl, as it's the best way to communicate, and the wizarding world uses Owl Post," Corner said.

At the mention of another owl, Mrs. Avis turned pale. Mr. Avis gave his wife a comforting squeeze on her knee before turning to Corner.

"We'll be pleased to go today. How will we be getting there? It's almost a thirty minute drive from here to London,"

"We'll be taking the Floo Network. I brought some Floo Powder with me and sent a letter to the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Transportation earlier in case you wanted to travel there today so that they could connect your fire; typically Muggle residences aren't connected to the Network, but they make exceptions from time to time," Corner said.

"Excuse me, but what's a Floo?" Blake asked.

"Oh, sorry. The Floo Network is an interconnected series of locations in fireplaces. To use it, you have to cast some Floo Powder into the fire, and then state your location when you get into the fire. It's a very curious sensation. At this, he stood and walked to the fireplace and removed another bag from his robes from which he pulled a handful of the powder, before casting it into the fire. The fire, which had been crackling merrily, turned from its standard orange to a bright emerald. "Don't worry, the fire won't burn." He added when the whole Avis family stared in horror at the green flames.

The three Avis's stood and walked to the fireplace, where they each took a handful of the powder.

"I'll go first so that you can see how it's done. Remember, you must speak _very_ clearly when you go, otherwise you'll miss your grail," At this, he stepped into the green flames and in a commanding voice said "The Leaky Cauldron!"

There was a whoosh of green flames and for a moment Corner merely whirled around before suddenly he vanished. He reappeared moments later, smiling, and brushing ash off of his cloak. "No harm done," He said, stepping out of the fire, and motioning to Mr. Avis to go ahead.

Taking a deep breath, Mr. Avis cast his powder into the flames which roared green again and said "The Leaky Cauldron!" Just as Corner had done, and suddenly in a flash was also gone.

"Blake, if you would please, go next," Corner said, and Blake stepped forward eagerly. He had long hoped that something special would happen to him. And here it was! His chance had arrived!

He cast the powder into the flames, which roared green once more, and stepped into the fire. It was warm, but it didn't burn, and the tongues of flames felt as though they were tickling him. He took a breath and shouted "The Leaky Cauldron!"

It felt as though he was spiraling very fast, and he couldn't breathe. He caught flashes of colors and rooms going by very quickly. After moments of this, he felt himself come to a stop and blinked rapidly, coughing slightly, as he stepped out of the grate into a room full of people looking at him. He shook his head and glanced around him. The Leaky Cauldron was a pub of sorts, and all kinds of people were sitting there, who, he assumed, must have been witches and wizards. A kindly woman from behind the bar stepped forward and handed him a glass of water before returning to the bar where she prepared another glass.

Blake didn't realize how thirsty he had become, but his throat was very dry from the fire, and he drained the glass in seconds before his mother came bursting through the fire, copying his movements as she exited. The bar woman emerged from the bar once more and handed Mrs. Avis a glass before returning to the bar, where she began filling orders for those surrounding it. Moments later, Professor Corner exited the fire, and clasped his hands with a smile on his face.

"All right then, shall we get started?"


	2. Diagon Alley

Looking around, Blake could definitely see why the Leaky Cauldron would be a good place for wizards to gather. The place was dingy, but had a friendly air nevertheless. The barmaid waved merrily at them as they passed by her, and Professor Corner led them through the backdoor next to the bar and into a small, enclosed space where the bins were. Corner took out his wand and tapped on the wall, and the brickwork there suddenly began to shift, revealing at first a small hole, until it was large enough for them to pass through. On the other side of the wall, however, was not just a small little alley, but a huge street lined on either side with shops.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Corner said happily, before leading them through the passageway. Blake stared in awe at the shops that they passed, such as an apothecary where a witch with a wart on her chin was observing a box labeled "dragon spleen", or the shop named Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions where a portly wizard was standing with three children, all of whom were wearing brand new robes. They passed bookshops, broomstick shops, which, Corner, explained, was where one could by racing brooms for playing Quidditch or for flying, which he explained was a common form of traveling in the Wizarding world, and that Quidditch was a popular sport played in the air.

Quill shops, pet shops, shops selling cauldrons; all of these were just a few of the shops that they passed before they stopped in front of a large white marble building with the name Gringotts Wizarding Bank carved into the front building. They climbed the steps and went through a pair of polished bronze doors that had two very small men, or what appeared to be men, in gold and scarlet uniforms. This led them into a smaller entrance hall with silver doors and a plaque with words written on it.

"The bank is owned and run by goblins," Corner said while Blake took the moment to read the inscription on the silver doors. "And they take their treasures very seriously. In fact, there have only been two break-ins at the bank, and only one of the two was successful."

They passed through the silver doors and found themselves in an enormous marble hall with long polished mahogany counters with various entrances at random intervals behind the desks, each of which had a goblin seated behind it. The one closest to Blake was weighing what appeared to be diamonds, his long fingers gently lifting up one to look at through a magnifying glass. When he found Blake watching, he replaced the diamond and gave a nasty smile to him, and Blake found that he had long sharp teeth. He turned away hastily and jogged to catch up with his parents and Professor Corner, who had made it about halfway up the hall. When they had come to the end of the hall, the stopped in front of a goblin raised higher than the others.

"Hello, could you inform us where to go or who to see for Muggle money exchange?" Professor Corner asked, smiling politely up at the goblin who had been writing hastily with a long quill. He barely glanced up before answering.

"Algrond," He said in a mildly wheezing voice. A smaller goblin glanced up from where he was counting rubies onto scales at the counter just to the left of the raised desk.

"Yes sir?" Algrond asked.

"Please help these people," the first goblin said, setting aside his parchment and pulling another one toward him. Algrond gave a small sigh, and snapped his long fingers, making the rubies disappear. Then he turned to Blake's group and clasped his hands together on the desk.

"What can I do for you?" Algrond asked, his tone polite.

"We need to do a Muggle money exchange, and open a new vault for Mr. Avis here who is starting at Hogwarts this year," Professor Corner said. The goblin smiled and snapped his fingers, and a long piece of parchment appeared before him, and another goblin stepped up to the desk who presented a small iron key and a tag attached to it.

"A new vault opening will cost 5 galleons; that will be twenty five pounds," He said, holding a hand out to Blake. Mr. Avis reached into his back pocket and removed a wallet, in which he usually carried a large sum of money as it was. He removed two one hundred pound notes from the wallet and presented them to Algrond, who took the money and placed it into a drawer under his desk, and pulled a small bag out of it, which he placed into the hand of the goblin next to him. A moment later, the goblin reappeared with the sack jangling between his hands and placed it onto the desk.

"You'll need to sign this," Algrond said, handing Blake a quill. On the top of the parchment was the poem from the silver doors warning thieves, and further on was a little bit of information regarding what the bank would do for him. "There is an annual fee of one galleon every year, which will be collected on the turn of New Year's Day from your vault." He explained. Blake dipped the quill into a small pot of ink that was sitting on the desk and scribbled his name onto the parchment before Algrond whipped it out of sight and placed the money bag onto the table.

"Inside, you will find thirty seven Galleons, and an assortment of Sickles and Knuts. If you wish, I will escort you to your new vault where you may deposit some of the money for safekeeping," Algrond said, passing the iron key to Blake which had the number 306 written on the tag. "Or I can simply have someone drop it off for you."

"We can hold onto the majority of it – you'll need quite a lot of it for shopping. I would suggest leaving at least five Galleons in your vault, just in case," Corner said. Mr. and Mrs. Avis seemed to agree, so Blake opened the bag and counted out five golden Galleons and placed them on the counter. Algrond swiped his hand over the Galleons and brushed them into a small bag that he pulled out of his desk, and bowed to them.

"It is a pleasure to welcome you to our services, Mr. Avis. Be sure to hold onto the key, as you'll need it if you wish to make a withdrawal. Have a pleasant day," Algrond said, bowing once more as they walked away.

"They seem rather… interesting," Mrs. Avis mentioned when they had descended the steps of Gringotts.

"Indeed; goblins are very intelligent creatures. They don't enjoy being viewed as inferior to wizards because they seem themselves on the same playing field, if not better than wizards. Anyway, the next thing you'll want to do is to stop by Ollivanders and get a wand, they're the best when it comes to making wands,"

And with this, they moved down the street, Blake once again staring everywhere around him, until they reached a dark looking shop. When they entered, a small tinkling bell echoed somewhere in the shop, and the door swung shut behind them quietly. Tiny boxes lined shelves in every nook and cranny throughout the store. It appeared to Blake as though most of them had been handled multiple times, and the oldest of the boxes was losing the color it had once held, the corners bent oddly. After a few moment s of waiting, they heard a small cough echo through the shop and a man appeared at the end of one of the shelves. He appeared to be immensely old with his pale skin hanging in some areas, and his hair was white as snow. His eyes, however, seemed bright and full of life.

"What do we have here? Michael Corner? You haven't come for a new wand…?" He stopped short upon noticing, for the first time, that there were three other people in the shop behind Professor Corner. "Ah, a Muggle-Born? Not to worry, we can sort you out in a jiffy," the old man said, turning to his shelves, his long, thin fingers brushing over boxes as they searched. He stuffed the hand that wasn't searching into his jacket pocket and removed a long wand, which he pointed at something sitting on the counter at the front of the shop. A long tape measure jumped up and flew around Blake suddenly measuring various parts of him. For a moment, Blake thought that this might have been particularly useful until it started measuring around his neck. "That will do," The old man said suddenly, grabbing the tape and stowing it away onto the desk.

"Now, my name is Garrick Ollivander. I've been making wands for a very long time, and my family has been in the wandmaking business for centuries. I'm a proponent that the wand chooses the wizard, Mr…?" Mr. Ollivander trailed off, looking at Blake inquiringly.

"Blake Avis," Blake said, watching Mr. Ollivander with interest.

"Mr. Avis. Well then, we'll try some wands and see what you get. I only work with three wand cores you see, so the options are limited only by the combination of woods and wands, but no two wands are the same, even if the wood and the core happens to be the same match," And with this, he pulled a box from off of the counter and pulled the lid off of it, revealing a long white wand nestled on a black velvet cushion.

"Yew, 15 ¼ inches, dragon heartstring," Mr. Ollivander said, handing the wand to Blake who held it for a few seconds, staring at it, before Mr. Ollivander had jerked it out of his hand and returned it to the box. "Not to worry, the first try is hardly ever the right one." He said.

This process continued for some time. Blake had tried thirty different wands of various combinations, but nothing seemed to be what Mr. Ollivander wanted.

"Here, try this one: Oak, 9 inches, unicorn tail hair," Mr. Ollivander said. Blake picked up the wand and had barely closed his grip around it when he felt Ollivander's prying fingers taking it away again.

"That one felt kind of warm," Blake muttered quietly, growing tired of the process. His parents seemed too anxious to grow annoyed.

"Yes, well that means very little," Mr. Ollivander snapped as he whipped out of site once more, down a new line of shelves that he hadn't been to yet.

He returned with five boxes in his arms, each of which he opened before handing the wand inside to Blake.

Neither the 16 ¾ inches rosewood and phoenix feather wand, the 10 ½ inches holly and dragon heartstring wand, the 13 inches cherry and unicorn hair wand, or the 7 inches blackthorn and phoenix feather wand seemed to work for Ollivander, who it seemed was starting to have fun with the challenge.

"Here we are then," Said Mr. Ollivander, removing a pale colored wand from within its golden cushioned box. "10 ¾ inches, larch, unicorn tail hair, quite flexible." As he handed the wand to Blake, something happened that hadn't happened with any of the other wands that he had tried. The wand felt like it had warmed up, and from it burst forth four red sparks.

"We've got a match!" Ollivander said happily, much to Blake's relief. "That will be seven Galleons."

A few moments later, they were leaving Mr. Ollivander's shop with Blake's new wand stowed away in his pocket. Next, Blake went into Madam Malkin's to get robes. The proprietor, a pleasant looking witch, took a look at his parents and Professor Corner before turning to him with a smile on her face.

"In you get, I've just started on another Hogwarts student," She smiled, pushing him along gently behind a rack where she pulled a stool up next to a boy with black hair. Blake stood on top of it and held his hands out while she took his measurements before she disappeared into the back.

"Are you going to Hogwarts, too?" Blake asked, turning to look at the boy next to him. The boy smiled and gave a small nod. He was thin and pale, his hair messy, and green eyes shining brightly. He stuck out a hand which Blake shook quickly as Madam Malkin strolled back into the room.

"I'm Albus," He said. "Albus Potter. But my friends usually just call me Al. I'm starting Hogwarts this year."

"I'm Blake Avis. I'm starting this year, too," Blake returned.

"Know what House you'll be in yet?" Albus asked, much to Blake's confusion. He was thankfully saved from looking stupid in front of Albus Potter, however, when Madam Malkin shoved a large black mass over his head. He emerged moments later, wearing robes much too large for him.

"I'm sorry?" Blake asked, turning his head to look at Albus.

"Your House," Albus asked. When Blake could give no answer, Albus's eyes lit with curiosity and he was about to ask him another question when Madam Malkin shoved another much too large robe over Albus's head. He emerged a moment later, his black hair even messier than before. "Are you a Muggle-born?" He asked.

"Um… yes," Blake answered.

"That's cool. My aunt is a Muggle-born you know, and she's brilliant and very talented. She's the Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic," Albus said. Blake smiled at this, hoping that maybe once he started at school he would be as talented or live up to such a title as Albus's aunt.

"What was that you said, about Houses?" Blake asked.

"Oh, Hogwarts is divided into four Houses for the four founders of the school. They each represent a different character trait; my brother and I have gotten into a few arguments because he keeps saying that I _might_ wind up in Slytherin…" He trailed off. Moments later, a man walked in from around the corner that looked remarkably like Albus. They had the same black, untidy hair and the same eyes, except the man wore glasses.

"Is everything alright in here, son?" He asked Albus, who nodded happily.

"Yep, just met Blake here; he's going to Hogwarts too dad, he's a Muggle-born,"

"Oh?" Said Albus's father, who held out his hand while Madam Malkin had her back turned to work on Albus's robes. "I'm Harry Potter, Head of the Auror Office at the Ministry of Magic."

"I'm Blake Avis," Said Blake nervously. He didn't know what an Auror was, but since Harry Potter was the head of the office, he was sure that the man must be very well known and popular.

"Well, Blake, I'm sure that you'll have a lot of fun when you get to Hogwarts. Years ago when I was starting at Hogwarts, I had no idea that the Wizarding World even existed. I'm not a Muggle-born of course, but I lived with my Muggle aunt and uncle growing up,"

"Well, it looks like you're both finished," Madam Malkin interrupted, and guided the three out of the back. Mr. and Mrs. Avis were waiting alone. Moments later, Professor Corner walked into the shop, laden with bags. He set them down and waved in greeting to Mr. Potter.

"Harry, long time, no see. Is this Albus?" Professor Corner asked.

"Yes, Michael, this is Albus. Are you two Mr. and Mrs. Avis?" Mr. Potter asked, turning to Blake's parents.

"Hello," Mr. and Mrs. Avis said nervously.

After Blake and Mr. Potter had paid for the robes, they were heading in different directions. "I reckon we'll see each other at Hogwarts," Albus said happily to Blake before following his father down the Alley.

"Look at you, making friends already," Said Mrs. Avis proudly.

"Yes, well, we must make a few more stops. Blake, I went to get you a cauldron and a telescope, a standard set of potion ingredients, and your standards from Flourish and Blotts for your books, and parchment, ink, and quills while you were getting fitted. The only thing left would be a pet, if you want one. I know you'd rather not buy an owl as a pet, Mrs. Avis, but it really is the easiest way to communicate in our world," Professor Corner said, indicating the bags that he had brought with him. He gave a flick of his wand and the things vanished. "I've sent them all back to your house. Travelling with them in the Floo Network would be a disaster."

"Mum, can I please get an owl?" Blake asked imploringly. He didn't want to feel left out when he got to Hogwarts.

"I don't know…" She started, rubbing her arm.

"Oh come on, then, Jane. Don't deprive the boy of something that most of his classmates will have just because you have a fear of birds," Mr. Avis chuckled, and his wife gave in, but she refused to enter Eeylop's Owl Emporium when they arrived at the shop. Moments later, they exited the store with a large barn owl in a large silver cage. The owl was sleeping and his head was tucked under his wing. Professor Corner gave his wand another flick and the owl and cage vanished.

With the money bag feeling considerably lighter, the Avis family made their way back down Diagon Alley and into the Leaky Cauldron once more. They each accepted a glass of something called Butterbeer, something Blake found incredibly delicious, from the barmaid who formally introduced herself this time as Madam Hannah Longbottom. Then, they each took a pinch of Floo Powder, called out the address of their home, and vanished in a whirl of emerald flames. When they had come out of the fire place, Professor Corner shook each of their hands in turn.

"Very well then, I shall come to take you to the train on the first of September. If you have any questions, send a letter with your owl. He'll know where to go. Don't lose your Hogwarts letter, as the ticket you'll need for the train is in the envelope," And with that, he bade them a good day and left the house.

The Avis family was in silence the rest of the evening, none of them quite able to believe what had transpired in that day. That night, Blake lay awake, wondering about the future, and whether he would wake the next morning to find that it had all just been a dream.


	3. The Hogwarts Express

Nearly a month had passed since the Avis family's meeting with Professor Michael Corner, the revelation that Blake was, in fact, a wizard, and their journey to Diagon Alley within the Wizarding World. Mr. and Mrs. Avis, though incredibly hesitant, had come to accept the fact that their child was not, what Professor Corner had called a Muggle.

While his parents struggled with trying to figure out how they were going to cover not sending their child to the school that he would have attended prior to the delivery of Blake's Hogwarts letter, Blake himself had thrown himself into reading the books that they had bought at Diagon Alley.

In an effort to understand where he would be going to, he first studied a book called _Hogwarts: A History_ by a woman named Bathilda Bagshot. According to the book, Hogwarts had been founded in the 9th century by four people named Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin, whose namesakes were used for the four Hogwarts Houses. It was the idea of the Houses that had interested him the most, especially since he had met Albus Potter who had talked about it when they were in Madam Malkin's buying robes. He had read the short things about what each of the houses valued most, and had been unable to determine where he might be placed when he arrived to the school based on the information.

He didn't think he would belong to Gryffindor, for he wasn't very brave and didn't think that being daring was something that he often did. Hufflepuff might have been an option for him, he thought, because they valued hard work, fair play, and loyalty, but then he also thought that he might be in Ravenclaw because he was very smart and creative. He also doubted that he would end up in Slytherin because he didn't consider himself to be very ambitious or cunning.

When he had exhausted himself off of information in _Hogwarts: A History_ , he had moved onto another book named _A History of Magic_ , also written by Bathilda Bagshot. While he found it would be useful, he couldn't bear to sit through another extensive reading session of histories, and thus moved to a book called _Magical Theory_ ; Blake found that this book was very intriguing, and spent quite a bit of time in understanding the workings of magic. Alongside this, he skimmed the pages of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_ , in which he found multiples spells and charms that would be useful. He didn't dare try to practice any of them, although he longed to, because of Professor Corner's warning of underage wizardry being against the law. He made mental notes to start practicing as soon as he could when he got to Hogwarts.

He glanced, very briefly at the other four books that seemed to be connected to subjects that he had read about in _Hogwarts: A History_ : Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. He longed to study them, but he found that if he started studying them he would appear as a know it all in class and incredibly dumb about the inner workings of the Wizarding World outside of school subjects. Better, Blake thought, to appear as though he knew very little of the Wizarding World, than to be far ahead of his classmates in terms of schooling knowledge.

He had come to spend a lot of time in his bedroom since the purchase of his new school items, coming down only for dinner. His owl, who he decided to name Andros after a name he had come across in his readings, had been living in a cage in Blake's room, and he seemed well-behaved enough for Mrs. Avis' liking, who allowed Blake to give him a few kippers after breakfast. Blake wanted to show Andros off to his friends, and maybe tell them about his acceptance to Hogwarts, but his father suggested that this might break some wizarding law, and so he resisted. His friends, much like his parents, became increasingly annoyed when they noticed that he was spending much of his time in his room.

"You look like you haven't been outside all month," George Kirke, one of Blake's friends, noted when Blake went to his house one day.

"I've been doing a lot of reading," Blake said, giving him a sheepish smile.

"Reading during the summer, I swear there's something wrong with you," George said, shaking his head, but he smiled and the day passed without much incident.

That night during dinner, Mr. Avis turned to his son. "We've decided that if your friends or if anyone in the family or our friends asks, you're being sent to a private boarding school out of concern for your education,"

"You're going to lie?" Blake asked, staring at his father. Mr. Avis was an honest man. He almost never lied, even when it was talking to one of his patients. An honest man would the future protect, he would say.

"It's the only thing we can do. You heard what that Professor Corner said, the Muggle world isn't supposed to know about wizards," He said somberly.

"Speaking of wizards, you'll be leaving for Hogwarts in roughly a week. I would suggest that you do your packing now and we'll make sure you have everything before we leave," Mrs. Avis said.

True enough, Blake had been avoiding packing. He was excited, but extremely nervous about leaving his home and beginning his education at Hogwarts. He put it off until his mother made him do it four days after the talk at dinner, standing at his door and watching him until he had packed the trunk that his father had bought full. His friends hadn't been happy to learn that he wouldn't be going with them to their school when he told them about the 'boarding school' that he was going to attend.

"Private schools are awful," George Kirke said, shaking his head. "But I'm going off too, mum and dad have some place in Scotland in mind, but it isn't a boarding school. I'm living with my dad's cousin Jack."

"Am I the only one going to be at our old school?" their friend Arianne wailed pitifully, looking distraught at the idea of her two good friends leaving.

"Looks like it Ari, but don't worry, we'll see you on breaks!" Blake said consolingly. Arianne sniffed disdainfully, as though it were Blake's fault. Not long after this, Blake, George, and Arianne said their goodbyes, and the other two departed from Blake's house.

That night, Blake lay in his bed wide awake, trying not to think about the next day's events and what they might hold. When he finally drifted off, his dreams were consumed by him walking into a dark hall that got progressively darker and darker until he could see nothing, and then it felt like he was falling through an endless expanse of nothing. The falling startled him awake just before the sun came up, and feeling like it would do no good to fall back to sleep, he got up and dressed in the pair of clothes he had laid out the night before, before heading downstairs where he found his mother and father already eating breakfast.

"Good morning," His mother said with an abnormal amount of cheer in her voice, as though she was purposefully being happy to stop herself from crying. She gave her son a quick peck on the cheek before handing him a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast.

"Well, we'd better get on the road. The trip to London for King's Cross could take some time if we don't get a move on, and you don't want to miss your train," Mr. Avis said when Blake was finished. His parents helped Blake get his trunk and Andros down to the car, and then they were off into the morning, heading for London.

The trip to the station passed quickly enough, and they had enough time to cross the street and get a cup of coffee before they needed to get Blake to the train. Blake pulled the envelope out of his pocket where he had been keeping it and removed the ticket that he would need for the train, noting that the platform was curiously named Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. He pointed this out to his parents, who he expected to chuckle, but instead they just looked confused.

"Must be something to do with your lot," Mr. Avis said. "Wizards, I mean."

They entered the station and walked down row of platforms they passed platform seven and eight, and came to a stop at platforms nine and ten. Mr. Avis looked around wearily, as though hoping that some wizard might come across and explain to them how to find Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Mr. Avis thought to ask one of the guards if he could tell them where the platform was, but he shook his head frowning and walked away muttering about strange people.

What were they supposed to do, Blake thought. Perhaps run at the wall? But no, that wall seemed pretty solid. Maybe it was a tapping pattern, similar to what Professor Corner had done with his wand when they went through the archway to Diagon Alley behind the Leaky Cauldron. A few moments later, however, he heard a voice calling his name, and when Blake looked up, it was to find a relieved-looking Professor Corner running between the platforms to get to them.

"There you are! What happened to "I'll take you all to King's Cross" did you miss, eh?" He grinned, but shook his head. "Well, at least you've found the platform."

"Sorry, sir, but we didn't. There doesn't seem to be any Platform Nine and Three-Quarters," Blake said, raising an eyebrow. Was this it? The grand reveal? He'd been thinking that this might have just been a huge set up by his parents as a joke.

"Oh, well of course you can't see it; it's _through_ the wall. You have to go through it to get to the platform. Come on, then. Mr. and Mrs. Avis, care to accompany us?" He asked. His parents, Blake thought, looked like they would rather be hit by a train unwittingly than to knowingly run straight at a wall; and Blake couldn't say that he disagreed with them. When neither of the Avis family members responded, Professor Corner shook his head, grinning and took Blake's trunk.

"I'll go first then," He said. "Don't blink." And with that, he turned straight to the wall between platforms nine and ten, and walked at a brisk pace toward it. Blake wanted to avert his eyes, sure that the professor would hit the wall and hurt himself, but he found that he couldn't. At the moment where Professor Corner should have smacked face-first into the wall, he suddenly vanished as though he had passed through the wall as easily as water.

"How did he _do_ that?" Blake asked, amazed. A moment later, however, Professor Corner appeared through the wall once more and smiled politely at the three.

"Well, after you all then. That was just to show you how it was done," He said, beckoning to the wall.

With a sudden confidence, Blake, with Andros in his cage in hand, he set off at the wall. He didn't even hesitate, and one moment he was facing the wall, in the next he was looking at a giant gleaming scarlet train. He glanced up and saw the sign labeled "Hogwarts Express, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters" above the wall where he had just come through. A moment later, his parents and Professor Corner crossed through the barrier themselves, and the three stared amazed at their new location.

"Yes, magic is quite marvelous. Now, Blake, you'll need to get on the train and find a compartment. You'll need to change into your robes before you leave the train for the school; have a good journey, and I'll see you in class." And with that, he stepped back into the crowd of witches and wizards and people of all kinds that filled the platform like kids saying goodbyes, mothers crying, or fathers grinning heartily, so that Blake and his parents could say their goodbyes.

"Good luck, son," Mr. Avis said, giving his son a hug.

"Write to us! We didn't buy that bird for nothing," Mrs. Avis said, eyeing Andros whose head was tucked under a wing.

"Don't worry mum, I will," Blake said, smiling. He gave each of them a hug, and then turned to the train. He got onto it, hauling his trunk behind him and Andros's cage in front of him, in search of a compartment. He had gone down about two thirds of the train before he found an empty compartment, and he pulled himself inside of it. He put Andros's cage into the corner and heaved his trunk into a luggage rack above the seats before sitting down heavily and glancing out the window. He searched the crowd eagerly to see if he could find his parents, but after a couple minutes he decided that they might have already left with Professor Corner, and instead turned to the sound of the compartment door opening.

"Oh, sorry," Said a familiar voice. "We thought that this might be empty. Oh! I remember you; it's Blake right?"

Blake turned and found himself looking at Albus Potter, who he had met at Madam Malkin's. He grinned and nodded. "Yep, and you're Al, right?" He asked. Albus nodded and then motioned behind him at a group of people.

"You mind if we join you? Trying to find another compartment would take ages," He said. Blake shook his head.

"Not at all, it's lonely in here by myself anyway," He smiled. The others filled in the compartment behind Albus, and he found himself in the company of someone who looked remarkably similar to Albus; an attractive guy with strawberry blond hair who seemed to be glowing slightly; and two others with flaming red hair, one of whom was already wearing her Hogwarts robes. The train started moving as they packed away their things and sat down. The compartment was definitely cramped now, with five cages, four of which contained an owl, and one contained a ferret. As the train jolted along and a couple of moments of silence passed them by, Albus started talking.

"So, guys, this is Blake Avis. I met him at Madam Malkin's when dad and I went to get my robes for school. Blake, this is my brother James," He said, indicating the kids with black hair who grinned at him. "And these are my cousins, Louis, Fred, and Rose Weasley." As he said their names, he pointed at each individual.

"Nice to meet you," Rose smiled.

"Know what your House will be?" Fred asked curiously, an grin on his face that looked eerily similar to the one on James's face.

"Um… no," Blake said, giving a small smile.

"Well, of course no one _really_ knows," James said. "But it's fun to speculate. I've been telling Al all summer that he might be in Slytherin."

"But I won't!" Albus protested, glaring at his older brother.

"He's only worried because all of the family so far has been sorted into Gryffindor like our parents before us," Louis explained as the two brothers started arguing.

"But what's wrong with the other Houses?" Blake asked, confused.

"Oh, nothing of course, but it would be strange to be the odd man out and be the only member of your family who wasn't sorted into the same House," Rose said. A moment passed by when, with Albus calling his brother a right foul git, that the compartment fell silent for a couple of minutes.

"So, where do you _think_ you'll be sorted then?" Albus asked Blake, pointedly ignoring his brother's glares.

"I'm not sure. I read about them in _Hogwarts: A History_ –" Blake began, but James snorted.

"Just like Aunt Hermione," He chuckled.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to learn!" Rose said indignantly, and gave Blake a smile.

"Oh just because you're basically her reincarnate doesn't mean much, Rosie," James laughed. "We don't all enjoy our reading."

"You are _so_ like Uncle Ron, James," Louis said, shaking his head.

"Anyway, Blake was going to tell us what he was thinking," Albus said, steering the conversation once more onto him.

"I'm thinking either Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw," Blake said sheepishly, worrying that this might not be the best thing to say to a compartment full of Gryffindors and Gryffindor hopefuls.

"You _think_ you'll be in _Hufflepuff_ or _Ravenclaw_?" James asked incredulously.

"What about your parents?" Fred asked, raising an eyebrow. "What were they?"

"They weren't in any of the Houses," I said, feeling the blood rushing to my face. "My parents are Muggles."

The conversation suddenly vanished and the bickering stopped. They were staring at me, but more out of understanding than anything.

"Oh, sorry; look, it doesn't matter where you get placed. We're just biased for Gryffindor, obviously. The Houses are all nice, really," Louis said, in an attempt to diffuse the situation. Blake smiled in thanks and then turned to stare out of the window as the conversation turned back to bickering. They had long left London, and now were rolling through hills and forests. In the distance, they could see a mountain.

There was a knock at the door, and James let out an angsty "Finally!" causing Blake to look around. An old witch was standing at the door with a large cart stacked high with sweets.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" She asked, and the group swarmed around her. Thinking that it would be nice to get something to eat, he followed the others, but recognized nothing on the trolley.

"What is all of this?" He asked Albus, glancing at what was called a chocolate frog.

"Oh, it's all just wizarding candy that's all. Stay away from the cockroach clusters," He added as an afterthought.

Blake handed the witch some money in exchange for a few pumpkin pasties and cauldron cakes, as well as a couple of chocolate frogs, and then sat down to sample his pickings. The frogs were enchanted, and could leap, much to Blake's amusement. In the same package of the frogs was a small card that had a witch or wizard, which Rose explained was given a card for something famous. The one that Blake was currently holding, however, startled him.

"Your dad is famous?" Blake asked as Mr. Potter smiled up at him.

"Oh… yeah, I can tell you about all of that later," Albus said.

The rest of the food disappeared quickly, and after a time, lamps flicked on as the sky outside of the train darkened.

"We must be nearly there. I'd suggest that you put your robes on," James said, and gave Rose a thumbs up who smiled proudly.

The journey to Hogwarts hadn't been anything that Blake could have expected. He had been thinking that he would have sat alone in his compartment all evening, and then to find his way, alone, to the school. But, as he sat surrounded by newfound friends, he thought otherwise.

As Blake put on his school robes, the only thought that was racing through his mind was: I'm ready.


	4. The Sorting Ceremony

**A/N: I'm disappointed that I didn't get any reviews for the last chapter, but the show must go on. Please consider leaving reviews for each chapter; your input matters to me and to the story. I won't be updating for at least a week, I need some personal time off. So, here's an American Independence Day update, special for all of you. I love you all!**

XXX

As the train slowed to a stop and Blake gathered his belongings to follow the rest of his compartment out onto the new platform of the village that James had said was called Hogsmeade, he couldn't help but feel the anxiety that filled him. He had no idea what to expect tonight – neither of the older students in the compartment would tell them anything, other than after the sorting they would have a feast. In his mind, Blake imagined having to show some skill of magic in front of the whole school in order to determine where he would belong. But he hadn't learned any magic yet – how on earth would he be able to complete a magical test? He had studied the theories, but he hadn't practiced anything. What if he stood there, his wand held up at something, and nothing happened?

His reverie was shaken, however, when Albus elbowed him in the side and jerked his head toward an enormous mass that towered over everyone else and seemed to be shouting something. The closer they got, Blake realized that it was a man. He gaped at the sight. The man had to be almost twelve feet tall and his girth seemed to match his height. He had shaggy black hair and a beard to match that covered most of his face, and from the light of the lantern that he was swinging around Blake could see that he had black eyes that crinkled with a smile.

"Firs' years this way!" He shouted, and raised an enormous hand to beckon to them, the majority of whom looked alarmed at the idea of being told to follow this wild-looking man. As Blake, Albus, and Rose grew closer the man glanced down – or bent down, in Blake's opinion – and smiled at Albus. "Jus' like yer father, Albus; and Rose, look at yeh! And who'll this be?" He turned his attention onto Blake, who trembled at being addressed by the large man and could not make his voice make a sound. But the man became sidetracked and resumed his herding of the first years.

"That's Hagrid – he's the groundskeeper here and he also teaches Care of Magical Creatures," Albus said to Blake before laughing at his shocked expression. "He's a half-giant, that's why he's so massive. But don't worry he's a big teddy bear really, just with a soft spot for not-so-cuddly creatures."

"If he's a teacher why isn't he called Professor Hagrid?" Blake asked, confused.

"Oh, everyone calls him that," Rose said, on her toes and trying to look over the heads of the people on the platform. "I wonder how we're getting to the castle."

"James said something about carriages and Thestrals," Albus shrugged.

"But why would we be taking those if we're being separated from the rest of the school?" Rose asked with a concerned look on her face.

"I dunno; Hagrid will explain, I'm sure," Albus said, but he too was starting to look anxious. And Albus was right, because moments later, the giant form of Hagrid was lumbering toward them, swinging his lantern.

"Alrigh', everyone follow me," He said, grinning at the lot. They started walking down a well-worn pathway and after a couple minutes of walking they were led out along an enormous lake, its waters shimmering black. "No more 'n four to a boat." He said, and pointed to a small fleet of boats at the side of the lake, none of them seeming to be tied down. Hagrid himself took up a whole boat. Rose, Albus, and Blake commandeered the nearest boat that they could find, accompanied by a surly-looking boy who didn't speak to them.

After Hagrid made sure everyone was in a boat, he turned and set his lantern in front of him and the boats began to move through the water, though none of them had done anything to make them move. Rose looked ecstatic at the boat's movement, though Blake worried that he might fall if the boat made any sudden movements. His worries were quashed, however, when the mist on the lake thinned enough for the castle to loom into view.

Hogwarts was grander than he had imagined. It towered, seemingly endlessly, with windows shining brightly as the sources of light, and towers that jutted into the night sky, so high that Blake couldn't make them out properly due to the angle and the night around them. The journey did not take long, and soon the boats were sailing into what appeared to be an underground cavern where a dock waited for them. The boats, Blake noticed, had not rocked when they had gotten into them, were balanced on the water the whole way across the lake, and as they climbed out of them and onto the docks they remained just as still.

"All righ', up the stairs and 'cross the lawn," Hagrid called, his voice echoing through the cavern, before swinging his lantern and began ascending the stairs. When the first years had cleared the stairs, they found themselves standing in front of a large lawn that met abruptly with the stone walls of the castle. Staring up as they went, Blake noticed something flickering among one of the torches that stood on either side of the huge front doors. The other students seemed to notice it too, and a moment later a little man, not quite solid and not quite see through bounced in front of the doors.

"It's a ghost!" One of the girls yelled, and the little man cackled.

"I'm not a ghosty, wee ickle firsty!" He said, rising up and floating in front of them.

"Get outta here, Peeves," Hagrid grumbled. "Peeves is the school's poltergeist; nothin' but trouble," He explained to the students. "Yeh aren't supposed to be at the feast, Peeves. Don't make me get the Bloody Baron."

Peeves blew a raspberry loudly and gestured rudely to Hagrid before soaring up and through the huge doors behind him.

"Who's the Bloody Baron?" A boy near Hagrid asked.

"One of the ghosts of the castle o' course; there's one for each of the Houses, and more," Hagrid said before the doors were opened by what looked like a very ugly, stooped old man.

"Evening, Filch," Hagrid said. The old man's eyes bulged menacingly as he stared out at the students gathered before him. He said nothing, but stepped aside as Hagrid marched past, the students following in his wake. As Blake passed by, he noticed that Filch seemed to be wheezing slightly; his cheeks were splotchy as though he had been running, and what little gray hair he had left clung to his head frailly. Beside him and peering around his ankles was a cat that looked at the students like they weren't where they were supposed to be.

The first thing that Blake noticed when he walked into the castle was that there were four enormous hourglasses along one of the walls, and in the top half of each held different colored stones, and each of the hour glasses had an emblem on it: a lion, a badger, an eagle, and a snake. Blake knew from his readings that they each represented the Houses for the point system, and that the hourglasses contained rubies, yellow diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds. He didn't have much time to admire this however, due to the fact that someone was coughing to get their attention and Blake pulled him along with the other students by the elbow. They came to a stop next to another large set of large doors and in front of these doors stood a man who was smiling at them largely. He had a nasty-looking cut beneath one of his eyes and his long black robes seemed a little earth-stained, but otherwise he looked friendly.

"Thank you Hagrid," The man said to Hagrid, who waved at them all before disappearing through a door just off of the hall that they stood in. "Welcome, first years, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My name is Professor Longbottom – you all received your acceptance letters from me this summer. You are currently standing in the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts, and through these doors is the Great Hall where you will be Sorted into your Houses, and thereafter you will eat. The four Houses here are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. While you attend this school, your House will be much like your family. If you do your schoolwork well and behave yourselves and follow the rules, you'll gain points which will be indicated by the hour glasses that I trust you saw when you walked into the Entrance Hall. Any rule breaking, however, will result in the deduction of points that will also be reflected by the hour glasses. At the end of the year, the points will decide who wins the House Cup. While here, you will live in a Common Room dormitory that consists of the year of your House and gender. The Sorting will begin in a few moments. Please wait here; when the doors open, you may walk in."

After this speech, Blake turned to look at Albus with wide eyes. The boy smiled at him encouragingly, and Rose beside him gave Blake a thumbs up.

"What do you reckon the Sorting is like?" Blake asked quietly.

"I'm not sure. I think it could be some kind of a test," Albus said, shrugging.

"What will you do if you don't get Gryffindor?" Blake asked the two cousins, who shared a worried look.

"Well… we'll just have to deal with it, I suppose. The first in the family to not be in Gryffindor… I'd hate to think about it," Rose said, her brow furrowing. Before Blake could respond, however, the doors to the Great Hall opened and they began to file into the enormous room before them.

There were four enormous tables running the length of the hall, with one larger table running across the width of the far end of the hall. Surrounding the tables were thousands of floating candles, and on the tables were glittering golden plates and goblets, behind each set of which was a corresponding student – each of which had their eyes turned to watch the entering first years with curiosity. The ceiling appeared to be a night sky with a few clouds here and there, and though Blake knew from _Hogwarts: A History_ that the ceiling was enchanted, it truly looked like the sky outside. They walked down the hall between the two middle tables and toward the high table where it appeared that the faculty of Hogwarts sat watching, with one larger seat sat in the middle. The wizened witch in the seat sat with her hands folded in front of her, watching the new students curiously.

In front of the high table, Professor Longbottom stood waiting with a three-legged stool with what appeared to be an extremely ancient hat sitting on it, a long piece of parchment in his hands. When the first years had gathered in front of the hat, a wide tear at the brim of the hat opened, and it sang out with a high, vain voice, much to Blake's surprise.

 _Oh so many years ago,_

 _When I was just brand new,_

 _The Founders of our school had a need:_

 _To determine what they alone knew._

 _Where should the students go when we are gone?_

 _Asked the four_

 _And thus I came along,_

 _Off of the head of dear old Gryffindor._

 _To determine where you should keep your beds,_

 _The Founders put some brains in me_

 _And now there's nothing in your heads,_

 _That the Sorting Hat can't see._

 _Perhaps you belong in Gryffindor,_

 _Where the brave and courageous prowl,_

 _Or maybe in dear Ravenclaw,_

 _Where the smart and clever dwell._

 _Or you might be a Slytherin,_

 _The ambitious and cunning,_

 _Or else you'd be a Hufflepuff,_

 _Who are loyal, caring, and humbling._

 _So, put me on,_

 _And let me look inside your eager minds,_

 _And I'll tell you where you ought to be,_

 _Because the Sorting Hat's never wrong._

When the Hat's song had finished, the brim came to a close and the Great Hall erupted into applause. Blake wanted to glance at Albus and Rose to get their reactions, but he was distracted by Professor Longbottom who was clearing his throat and read the first of the names on the list:

"Avis, Blake." He said. Blake took a few shaky steps forward and sat on the stool, where he caught a glance of the whole school staring up at him before the hat slipped over his eyes. Immediately, he felt as though something were working through his mind, crawling like some kind of worm.

"Hmmm, let's see… yes, I see. Oh but what's this?" a voice said in his mind, and he recognized it as the voice that had been singing a moment ago. The hat was talking to him.

"Lots of eagerness, you have a natural will to learn and to understand… but there's so much kindness here, a want to be accepted and to achieve your greatness through fairness. You have courage, and you have ambition, but not enough to shine you into _those_ houses. Yes, you're difficult…" After some time the hat fell silent as though it were deliberating with itself. After a few minutes, the hat spoke again in his mind. "But you already knew that you would be in one of those two I can see it. But you have no preference. Perhaps your craving for knowledge outweighs your loyalty? But not, you would be happy anywhere I place you."

Once more the hat fell silent, and he was dimly aware of the fact that the students and the faculty in the Great Hall were shifting uncomfortably. After another minute passed before he felt the brim of the hat open around his head and shout with a deafening yell:

"Hufflepuff!"

A moment later, the hat was removed from Blake's head, and the table to the far right of the Great Hall erupted into cheers. Grinning, he walked shakily to the table and sat down beside a blond guy and a girl with long black dreadlocks who had moved a little to make room for him.

"Congratulations!" The blond guy said, holding his hand out. "I'm Tristan Macmillan. Welcome to Hufflepuff!"

The girl with the dreadlocks beamed at him after Tristan's introduction.

"I'm Adrienne Thomas. I was sorted here two years ago; my twin sister Arianne is in Gryffindor; we were both almost hat-stalls, because the Hat didn't know what to do with us. But you actually were! It took the hat almost eight minutes to decide where to put you.," She said and shook his hand.

"What does that mean?" Blake asked, concerned. He didn't want to be something stranger than he already was.

"Just that it took the hat a long time to sort you; hat-stalls are rare, you know, but that's a good thing! It means you might have wound up in another House; any idea which one?" Adrienne asked, but before he could answer Professor Longbottom cleared his throat loudly.

When Hufflepuff's celebration died down, the rest of the school's attention returned to the Sorting as Brennan, Joy was sorted into Gryffindor – which caused a roar of cheering to sound from the table next to Hufflepuff's table.

Carey, Cynthia, and Creevey, Colin, were both sorted into Gryffindor next, and then Davies, Devon was sorted into Ravenclaw. The table beside Gryffindor cheered for him as he sat down. Graves, Mikaela was sorted into Slytherin. The table on the far end of the Great Hall beside the Ravenclaw table cheered as she joined their ranks.

Another few students sat down before Malfoy, Scorpius, was called to the Hat. He sat down, looking out at the school and the Hat had barely sat on his sleek blond hair when it screamed "Slytherin!" Scorpius rushed to join his table, looking smug. Blake watched him go, and as he sat down, he glanced through the heads and for a moment, Blake thought that they had made eye contact, but then Scorpius looked away as Potter, Albus was called. Albus walked forward nervously and sat on the stool before the Hat dropped over his eyes and a moment passed quietly in which Blake hoped that his new found friend would be sorted with him, but he became disappointed when the Hat called out "Gryffindor!" Albus rushed off to join his table, his smile wide, and dropped down next to his brother. Blake was happy that Albus was in Gryffindor though – it was what he wanted, he had said so on the train.

Finally, Weasley, Rose walked to the hat, and it took Rose almost as much time as it had taken for the hat to decide on Blake, much to Blake's relief that he would be the only one. After seven minutes of waiting, the Hat called out "Gryffindor!" and she ran happily to the table to join her family.

Blake was mildly upset that neither of his newfound friends had been sorted into the same House as him, but he didn't have the time to dwell on it because the Headmistress stood and the Great Hall fell silent.

"Welcome, to our new students! And welcome back, to our old students!" Professor Sprout said happily. "I have a few start of term announcements to make. First Years should know that the Forbidden Forest is aptly named so because it is _forbidden_ to enter it unless instructed to do so by a teacher. We are happy to announce that we have found a replacement for Professor Flitwick, who retired at the end of last year; please welcome Professor Ernie Macmillan, who will be teaching Charms."

At this, Blake turned to look at Tristan, who smiled bemusedly. "He hoped that no one would realize that we are related, but fat lot of good that will do when we have the same last name," Tristan whispered, and Blake noticed that a few heads in the Hufflepuff table were grinning in Tristan's direction.

"Well, with that said, dig in!" Professor Sprout said, before taking her seat again.

Moments later, food of all kinds, everything that Blake could have imagined, appeared on the table in front of him.

"Whoa! How does that happen?" Blake asked, tempted to look under the table.

"Oh, it's the House Elves, they send the food up," Adrienne said as she poured herself a goblet full of pumpkin juice.

One of the boys that had been sorted into Hufflepuff along with Blake, Derrick Peterson, looked at Blake from where he sat across the table and grinned at him. Blake smiled back and helped himself to a bit of everything in his grasp. When the dinner had finished, the plates were wiped away magically before a marvelous selection of desserts rose through the table. Blake ate so much treacle tart he thought that he might burst.

When the dessert too had been wiped away, Professor Sprout stood up once more.

"With your stomachs full and your heads light and thinking of sleep, I bid you all good night. Classes begin tomorrow, so make sure you're up! Chop chop!"


	5. Like a Needle in a Haystack

**A/N: Sorry about my absence! So after a month of relaxation and de-stressing on my part, I'm back. I'm planning on doing a large chunk of writing over the next few weeks, since I took a month off for vacation and mental health. I move back into Uni on Thursday the 13** **th** **, so you know how that'll go if you followed my other stories. It's lovely to be back!**

XXX

Blake stood and followed the other first year Hufflepuffs out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall, where the prefect that they were behind led them into a door beside the staircase that the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were going up. He noticed that the Slytherins were going into a door close to theirs, although the door that the Slytherins were heading through appeared a bit more sinister than their own brightly lit passage. The prefect ushered them down a set of stairs and through the passage, which Blake noticed seemed to go on for a long bit in front of them, paintings lining the walls, and it seemed to curve a little until they came to a stop in front of a bunch of barrels just around the corner of a large fruit basket.

"This is our common room," The prefect said. "To get in, you have to tap the barrel two from the bottom in the middle of the second row. Careful though, if you tap the wrong barrel or use the wrong rhythm the barrels will spray you with vinegar. The rhythm is like you're saying Helga Hufflepuff," He said, then turning to the barrel he tapped on the barrel he had indicated five times to the rhythm of saying Helga Hufflepuff, and the barrel's lid opened to reveal a hole that was perfect for students to crawl in and out of.

One by one they climbed through the whole until Blake found himself standing in a large expanse of a curved, low-ceilinged room that looked so cozy he thought he would be able to find himself happy no matter how much homework he had to deal with. There were plants of all kinds lining the walls, cozy-looking armchairs and work desks, and a fire was crackling merrily in the fireplace. The whole place was decorated in Hufflepuff's standard black and yellow colors. Off of either side of the room, the prefect indicated barrels that, when pushed aside, would allow students to crawl through the tunnels to get to their dormitories.

Blake followed the suit of the other four first year boys before him and found himself in a network of tunnels. The boy in the lead, Derrick Peterson, led them down a tunnel that ended in a barrel. When Blake passed through it, he saw that it had a sign hanging on it with the words "First Years" inscribed on it. This barrel doorway led them into a small but cozy curved room that was similar to the common room, but it was smaller. Instead of desks, it had a four-poster bed for each of the boys hung with yellow curtains to pull around their beds and the bedspreads were checkered yellow and black. It had the feeling of an animal's hole, and because their House's mascot was the badger, Blake guessed that that made sense. He noticed that their belongings had been brought into their room, including Andros' empty cage and his trunk, and a fire was crackling happily in a grate in the center of the room.

"Right, well since we'll be living together, we should probably get to know one another," Derrick Peterson said, bringing the boys attention to focus on him.

"I'm Derrick Peterson – Half-blood," He said, smiling at them. Derrick was attractive, with hair the color of honey and blue eyes. He had an assured air about him, as though he had confidence enough to fill in for the rest. He was a head taller than the other boys in their room, and he looked as though he were daring the rest of them to try to take charge.

"I'm Samuel Davis," said the boy beside Derrick. He was small and wiry, but he was smiling wickedly and seemed to have a lot of energy pent up inside him. He kept brushing his curly black hair back, as though hoping it would eventually stay out of his brown eyes, but it just kept bouncing back into place. "But call me Sam. I'm a Half-Blood as well."

"Ryan Chance, Pure-Blood," said a boy with red hair beside Sam. He was fidgeting nervously, but his green eyes sparkled happily. He said no more.

"I'm Blake Avis," Blake offered, smiling at them.

"Oh we know who _you_ are, Mr. Hatstall," Derrick said, grinning over at him.

"Well, I'm a Muggle-Born," Blake added, smiling sheepishly at the others, but they just continued to grin as though his being a Hat stall was something they wouldn't let him live down.

"So which other House was it, then?" Sam asked, tapping on one of his legs impatiently.

"Sorry?" Blake asked, confused.

"He means which of the other Houses the Hat was torn between," said the last boy beside Blake. "I'm Josh Carper, by the way. Also a Muggle-Born." He was tall and lanky and tan, with short but styled black hair and warm brown eyes.

"Oh, it was between us and Ravenclaw," Blake said, and the other boys raised an eyebrow.

"Ravenclaw? So you're probably a big know-it-all then?" Ryan asked.

"No, I just like learning a lot, that's all," Blake said defensively. He felt that if any of the boys would get on his bad side, it was going to be Ryan.

"Alright, you don't have to get moody," Derrick said, before turning for his bed. "We should probably get some sleep since we have classes in the morning. Good night!"

The other boys muttered good night as well, and Blake turned to his bed. He was happy to see that he was between Josh and Sam, as he figured that the other two would be an annoyance to wake up to in the morning. He changed out of his robes and into a pair of pajamas before crawling into his bed and pulling the curtains shut. He lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to the fire crackling, and eventually dozed off.

XXX

The next morning greeted them happily, and sunlight trailed into their dormitory via a few small windows near the ceiling. Blake pulled himself out of the sheets that he had become tangled in the night before, and emerged from his bed to find himself face to face with Josh, whose hair, perfectly styled the night before, resembled a bird's nest. He didn't seem to notice however, and grinned at the sight of Blake's appearance.

"Fitful sleep?" He asked.

"Not really," Blake said, yawning.

"Your bed looks like a nest and your hair looks like you were slapped by a tornado," Josh laughed, and Blake glared at the boy.

"Your hair looks like a bird's nest," He argued, and Josh laughed once more before tapping his nose and stood to get dressed.

Blake decided that he liked Josh. While they were dressing, Sam appeared from his bed and grinned at the two. "I slept like a baby," He said.

"So you woke up multiple times and used the bathroom and got a late-night snack?" called Ryan, who had stuck his head out from between his curtains.

"No, I mean I didn't really move," Sam said, knitting his thick eyebrows in confusion at the redhead.

"Then the correct saying would probably be 'I slept like a rock'," Ryan offered.

"Who's the know-it-all today, then?" Derrick asked as he opened the curtains around his bed.

"Oh be quiet, you," Ryan said, leveling a glare at Derrick.

The rest of the morning goings went by fast, and Blake found himself making his way toward the Great Hall for breakfast accompanied by Josh and Sam. As they passed through the Common Room, Blake noticed that it looked even friendlier in the daylight with sunlight filtering into the room through the windows near the ceiling like in their dormitory.

As they ate their breakfast, a curly-haired blond professor descended from the Staff table and began passing out schedules among the Hufflepuffs.

Is that our Head of House, then?" Sam asked, and neither Josh nor Blake had an answer for him.

"Yeah, that's Professor Finch-Fletchley. He also teaches Transfiguration," Said an older student, who had just gotten to the table.

"Is he fair, then?" Josh asked, and the older boy laughed.

"As long as you play by our House values, you'll be fine. Loyal and hardworking, you know,"

"Good morning," Came the voice of Professor Finch-Fletchley. "Let's see here… Avis, Blake; Carper, Josh; Davis, Samuel." He said, passing them a schedule.

"It's Sam," Sam corrected him, and the professor looked up from his list and smiled at the boy.

"Of course you are. I know your mother, you know," He said.

"How do you know my mum?" Sam asked, staring at him.

"We went to Hogwarts together. Now I'd suggest you hurry, you have Double Transfiguration with me shortly," He instructed, before hurrying along down the table and passing out more schedules.

"It seems like we all have the same classes then," Josh said, inspecting their schedules.

"Of course you do," Said the older student. "We take our classes by House for the most part until you start taking the other classes in your third and sixth years. Oh look, mail's here."

And sure enough, a moment later the Great Hall was filled with owls circling the hall, looking for their owners. Blake didn't expect anything until the owl carrying his Daily Prophet appeared. He gave the owl a few kippers and took the paper from the owl's leg.

"Anything interesting in there?" Sam asked as he shoveled down some bacon. Blake smirked at the boy but turned to the paper at the same time as whispers broke out all through the hall which began to rise in volume to the point of shouts to be heard.

"It says something here about the "Dark Mark" was spotted somewhere in London… What's the Dark Mark, then?" He shouted over the hysteria, and Sam blanched and choked on his bacon. Blake pounded on his back and he coughed the bacon back up and stared at the paper with a horrified expression on his face.

Suddenly a loud bang exploded through the Great Hall and silence filled the hall as the students turned to face Professor Sprout, who stood at her seat and was stuffing her wand back into her robes.

"That will do. I understand as well as any of you how terrifying the news of the Dark Mark being seen for the first time in so long is; but I must ask you to allay your fears and focus on the day ahead of you. You have classes to attend. The story states that the caster of the Mark was caught soon after setting it. You have nothing to worry about, and if it does become something of interest, we will inform you and do everything in our power to protect you. Please remember that the majority of our staff fought in the Battle of Hogwarts during the Second Wizarding War. Now, finish off your breakfasts and go about your day."

At the end of Professor Sprout's speech, the Great Hall broke into whispers once more, but the discussion was much less heated than before. Blake and Josh, both Muggle-Borns, turned to Sam to explain immediately.

"Well, the Dark Mark is the mark of a dark wizard, probably the worst of them – Dark Lord Volde- Vol… _Voldemort_. He was killed off years ago by Harry Potter. His supporters were supposed to all be caught by now, though. There was this huge war, you see, between the wizards and witches on his side and those who weren't, and there was a battle fought at Hogwarts… a lot of people died, and it was mass hysteria, basically," Sam said. They finished their breakfasts, and Blake turned to search the Hall for his Potter and Weasley friends who would surely be of concern considering they were related to Harry Potter who had killed this Dark Lord, but they were nowhere to be seen.

"Well, let's get on with the day then. No need to fear a Dark Lord who is long dead," Josh said, grabbing the other two by the arm and pulling them along.

They found their way into the Transfiguration classroom, where Professor Finch-Fletchley sat at his desk, writing furiously and his brow furrowed. He didn't even notice when the door was closed as the last student filed into the room and didn't look up until one of the students coughed.

"Oh! So sorry, why didn't someone say something? Well, let's get on with it then," He said, standing and walking around to stand in front of them all. "My name is Professor Finch-Fletchley for those who are unaware, and I am also the Head of Hufflepuff House. Now, Transfiguration is an extremely precise, and one of the most difficult, branches of magic. It takes a lot of knowledge in the theories and skill in the actual practice in order to be successful in this. Essentially, it is the art of taking an object or objects and causing them to change into another object or objects through theory and skill and magic."

After his explanation, he had the students open their Transfiguration books and read and take notes before passing out a porcupine needle to each student with a flick of his wand.

"Your goal is to transfigure the porcupine needle into a sewing needle. If any of you are successful in changing the needle – properly, I might add – then bring me your needle and I will inspect it. Good luck!" He called before he began to roam about the room and monitoring the students' work.

Blake took out his wand and setting his textbook aside, glanced at the porcupine needle in front of him and glanced a few times at his notes before taking his wand out. This was it. His first bit of magic. He concentrated with all his might, ignoring the words being said by his classmates and pointed his wand at the needle.

" _Mutatio acus!_ " He said, tapping his wand down on the needle twice. The needle shuddered for a moment and turned silver, but it didn't resemble a sewing needle.

"Close, Mr. Avis," Professor Finch-Fletchley said from his side, startling Blake who hadn't heard him approach. "But you missed a third tap of the wand. Try again, and keep that level of concentration up. You're the only one to even make a difference to their needle so far." The professor tapped his needle and it was once more a regular porcupine needle.

Blake nodded, cursing himself mentally for forgetting it was three taps, and once again concentrated on the needle, blocking other thoughts and noises out.

" _Mutatio acus!_ " Blake said again, tapping three times on the needle. It shuddered once more and suddenly it shrunk, became thinner, and turned silver. A small eye for thread appeared on one of the sides of the needle and Blake stared in awe at the transfigured needle in front of him.

"Oh well done! See here now, Mr. Avis has changed the needle perfectly," Professor Finch-Fletchley said, holding up his needle. "Ten points to Hufflepuff; I believe that's a record for the fastest beginner Transfiguration work Hogwarts has seen. Well done, Mr. Avis. Try once more now."

Finch-Fletchley flicked his wand and the needle was once again a porcupine needle. Blake concentrated and performed the spell once more, and the needle was again fit for sewing.

"It gets easier every time you do it, and with practice you'll almost never have to do quite as much concentration. Oh very well done," The professor said delightedly. "And take another five points to Hufflepuff for good, hard work."

Blake sat there, amazed at the fact that he had been the first to change his needle and that he had achieved it so quickly. A few moments later, the back of the room began to smoke violently and a loud _bang!_ echoed through the room. One of the girls in the back had jabbed her needle a little too violently and the needle caught fire with the force of a gunshot. Professor Finch-Fletchley grinned happily and waved his wand, making the smoke disappear and the needle to reappear on the girl's desk.

"Let's not shove our wands too hard, if you please," He called to the rest of the class.

"How did you manage that?" Sam asked from beside Blake. He was biting his lip in frustration.

"Block everything else out and focus on the needle. You want to envision the needle changing and bending to your will," Blake offered. A moment later, a shout of triumph came from Josh on Blake's other side and he held up his needle proudly.

"Ten points to Hufflepuff," Finch-Fletchley said as he examined Josh's needle. "Well done, Mr. Carper."

By the end of the class, Blake and Josh had been the only two to change their needles, although Sam had come close. His needle had turned an ugly gray color and had an eye, but it was still large and very porcupine-like. They had been assigned to write an essay on the process of Transfigurational theory according to their textbooks.

"I hope that Potions will go better," Sam huffed as they headed to the Great Hall for their lunch.

"I met Professor Corner over the summer when he delivered my letter and took me to Diagon Alley and he's the Potions professor. He seemed nice enough," Blake offered.

"Yeah, but that's the summer isn't it? He could be a totally different person during the school year," Sam argued grouchily as he stuffed a sandwich into his mouth. Blake shrugged and pulled a sandwich onto his plate, thinking about how the rest of his day would go. He hadn't thought much about the Dark Mark story from the Daily Prophet, but as he scanned the room in search of his Gryffindor friends, and noticed that they were once again absent, he began to think.

"Why would the Dark Mark suddenly show up after so long?" He asked, to which Josh shrugged.

"You know how wars can be. Losing sides can never quite let it go,"


	6. Lessons

**A/N: Classes have started and have only been going on for two days and I'm already exhausted. I'll put myself onto a strict schedule to make sure that I at least get one chapter up per week. From now on, I would expect for Friday or Sunday to be chapter day. And if I'm feeling up to it, you may get one during the week. Remember, please leave a review!**

 **For those wondering why this supposed romance story is moving so slowly in comparison to my other stories – love shouldn't be rushed, and I realize that I moved way too fast in my other works. Besides, keep in mind that they're only ELEVEN. It'll come soon enough, but don't get impatient :P**

XXX

Blake, Josh and Sam found themselves heading into the dungeons for their potions lessons, and as they stood waiting for Professor Corner to arrive to let them in, their fellow classmates began to fill the corridor. The Hufflepuff girls that he hadn't met yet seemed to huddle together, giggling, and the first year Ravenclaws looked nervously around them as though the thought of learning in a dungeon would be next to impossible for them.

A few moments of nervous shuffling, the students parted as Professor Corner made his way into the corridor, his nose pressed into a book. He waved his wand at the door of his classroom almost lazily and went inside without saying a word to his students. They stood outside of the room for a few moments before they heard him call out, "Well don't just wait outside, get in here!" to which the students hastily filed into the room. Sitting at a desk with Josh, Sam, and a girl from Hufflepuff he hadn't met yet, Blake rifled through his bag and extracted his copy of _Magical Drafts and Potions_ and placed it on his desk before turning to pay attention to Professor Corner, who once more had buried his nose into a book.

After a few moments of silence, he glanced up and caught Blake's eye. He winked at him and then stood up and crossed around to the front of his desk.

"Well everyone, welcome to your first potions class. There will be very little wandwork involved in this subject, so I would suggest you put them away," He said, glancing at a group of Ravenclaws who were stowing away their wands, looking rather chagrined at their over-eagerness.

"For those who are unaware, I'm Professor Corner, Head of Ravenclaw House and Potions Master of Hogwarts. Potions have less to do with magic, and more to do with science and skill than any other branch of magic that you will study. Your goal in this class to be as precise as you can with your potion making by following instructions and recipes down to the dotted 'I's and crossed 'T's. A forgotten ingredient can easily create disastrous effects, and too much of an ingredient can create the even worse problems. At the end of terms, when you have your exam for this class, you'll be expected to create a potion that we've made in class from memory, so study hard and make sure that you keep a running list of the things we make in here because any of them could come up on a test or in life outside of school. I expect each of you to devote your absolute concentration and skill while here; keep your worries about other classes and personal lives at the door before you enter, and if you feel like something will prevent you from doing so, see me after this class so that I may assist you in doing so. Now, if there are any questions…?"

Blake stared at Professor Corner, trying to take in everything that he'd said. It would require his _utmost_ concentration? He felt exhausted already from the effort he had put into his Transfiguration lesson.

"Well, if there are no questions, please open your books to page five of your books and we'll get started on our first potions of the term. I will go about the room, watching – and possibly correcting – you work. If you need anything, raise your hand. Every potion you create will be bottled into a flask and brought to my desk at the end of class unless we are creating a potion that takes more than one class to finish," Professor Corner said, before taking out his wand and waving it so that a box of crystal flasks soared into the air and deposited on the desks in front of each student. "We now have just under an hour of time left with one another, and your potion shouldn't take longer than that. For this potion, everything you need is on your work stations; in the future, you'll have your personal stores to pull from as well as the potions stock in the back room through the door behind my desk. Good luck."

Blake opened his book, and turned to page five where he saw a drawing of a cauldron. Next to it, the name of the potion – Forgetfulness Potion – was scrawled in neat black ink, followed by a list of ingredients necessary to create the potion, which was followed by the directions for creating the potion. He glanced at the list and then pulled forward items on the desk. Blake checked with the book for the first step, and then reached for the little clear bottle labeled Lethe River Water and unstopped it. A dropper came out of the lid and he added two drops of the water to his cauldron before turning back to the book. _Gently heat for twenty seconds_ , Blake read. He glanced around him and saw that the other students were looking just as stumped as he was on how to heat the cauldron. What could he possibly use to heat it?

"Oh, sorry; just beside your cauldrons you'll see a button to turn the fire on. Just press it and the fire will set. Press it again for a stronger flame, again for the highest setting, and if you want to turn it off just hold the button down until it stops. Carry on," Professor Corner said, after which flames sputtered to life under several cauldrons. Blake leaned down and pressed the button once and counted in his head back from twenty to one before holding the button down and watched the flames die out. He raised his head and saw that the water had started to simmer just lightly. He turned to the book and looked for the next step. _Add two Valerian sprigs to the cauldron and stir three times clockwise_ , the book instructed.

Blake added the sprigs, and then using the large ladle next to the cauldron, gave the potion three stirs. To his surprise the potion turned a violent black color and bubbled like mud. According to the book, he should leave the potion to brew. He glanced over the rest of the room and saw that the majority of them looked stressed like they had done something wrong. Blake took a glance into Josh's potion and saw that it hadn't done anything but turn a light grey color and the Valerian sprigs didn't seem to have dissolved into the potion, and Sam's potion looked like a purple blob.

Professor Corner swept around the classroom, peering into cauldrons and either smiling or grimacing. Once or twice he murmured instructions to the student whose cauldron he had looked into. When he reached their table, he looked at the Hufflepuff girl's cauldron first, and Blake realized that he hadn't even asked her name. Her potion looked like his though, and Professor Corner smiled as he withdrew from her. He glanced down distastefully at the purple mass in Sam's cauldron and then whispered something quietly, and Blake didn't hear what he told Sam to do, but Sam whipped around the table and disappeared into the potion's stock room behind the desk. At Josh's cauldron, he laughed lightly.

"You didn't heat it long enough," He whispered faintly to Josh. "Just a few more seconds – no more than five – and you'll be up to speed." Then, the professor turned to Blake, winked at him, and peered into his cauldron.

"Excellent work," the professor said to him before heading to his desk. Sam returned moments later carrying what looked like a shriveled up animal and threw the thing as a whole into his cauldron. He used his ladle to stir it and moments later it was no longer a congealed purple blob, but turned to a black muddy consistency that was similar to Blake and the girl's. Josh's cauldron too had taken the appearance of black mud.

"Well, it appears we are running out of time to finish the potions, so we'll be finishing them during the next class. For your homework, read the second chapter in the book," Professor Corner said, waving his wand so that the cauldrons vanished. "Have a good afternoon!"

As Blake returned his book to his bag, he heard Josh laughing lightly.

"Well, that could have gone better," he said, shouldering his bag.

"You're telling me," Sam said, hanging his head dejectedly.

"What did he have you add to make it work out?" Blake asked, eyeing the spot where Sam's cauldron had vanished.

"Boomslang skin," He said, shrugging.

"Boom… what?" Josh asked, staring at Sam as though he were speaking a foreign language.

"Never mind that, don't we have a class?" Blake asked, looking at his watch.

"Right, sorry," Josh said, and together the three of them took off for their Herbology lesson.

The trek up into the main part of the castle seemed to go faster than it had been for them to walk down into the dungeons, and as they passed through the Entrance Hall for the front doors, a group of pearly white ghosts floated in through one of the walls and passed through Blake and his friends without noticing. Shuddering as though someone had doused them with cold water, they hastened to the door and stepped eagerly into the sunlight. The Herbology lessons were held in the Hogwarts greenhouses, and if he remembered correctly, were taught by Professor Longbottom.

As they filtered into the greenhouse that Professor Longbottom was standing in front of, Blake caught a glance of Albus and Rose sitting near a table and dragged Josh and Sam over to them. Albus and Rose both looked up and smiled largely as they approached and Albus stood up.

"Blake! How has it been?" Albus asked, closing the distance between them and giving him a hug, which Blake returned warmly. "And who are these two?"

"It's been okay," Blake said, smiling, before introducing his friends. "Albus, Rose, meet my friends Josh and Sam. I met Albus and Rose on the Hogwarts Express."

Rose waved warmly and Albus nodded his head before Professor Longbottom started their lesson. An hour later, Blake walked out with his friends and housemates covered in dirt and flower petals from the puffapods that they had been repotting.

"Well, that was an interesting lesson," Rose said, running a hand through her hair to dislodge a few clumps of dirt.

"I just wish there were an easier way to tell if the pod could break before you try to remove it from the original pot so that the beans don't start falling out," Albus said, picking a few flower petals off of his robes.

"You missed some," Blake said, grabbing a handful off of the back of Albus's robes so that he wouldn't be walking around with them. Albus shot Blake a grin and then they started making their way up to the castle.

"Technically dinner isn't for another hour. I have homework but it isn't due until the day after tomorrow, so we could hang out for a bit around the lake if you all are okay with that?" Josh said, nodding his head to the lake where a giant tentacle was dipping back into the water.

"Sure!" Albus said, and the five students turned and headed down the path toward the lake, finding a spot next to a beech tree that towered over them. As they settled in, Blake leaned against the tree with Albus on one side and Josh on the other, with Rose and Sam facing them.

"So, Al, did your dad say anything about the Dark Mark?" Blake asked, and he watched his two Gryffindor friends exchange a glance before Albus answered.

"Well, they aren't sure who cast it. There wasn't any signs of damage, no one missing, not a wand left behind…" He trailed off, glancing over the lake. "Dad took us home for a bit to be watched by my mum while they did the investigation, you know, since he's the one who defeated You-Know-Who during the second Wizarding War. He figured that if anyone were going to get attacked it would be him and his family."

"But you're fine though, right?" Josh asked, raising an eyebrow.

"For now, but dad is having words with the department of magical law enforcement at the ministry, and is trying to get extra wizarding protection put around the school, just in case. So many members of my family are at Hogwarts right now that if the school is breached we're all in danger," Albus said, shrugging. "So, what did everyone think about their first day?"

"It's been a really long day already, but it was great for me," Blake said, and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Says the boy who was basically perfect at all three of our lessons today," he teased.

"I was _not_ perfect," Blake argued defensively.

"Says the one who doesn't have to practice turning his porcupine needle into a sewing needle because he was already good enough at it," Josh said, poking his side.

"It's not my fault that it came easily to me," Blake complained.

"That's amazing though," Rose said, grinning at him. "I hope that I'm that good when we have our first Transfiguration lesson."

"What about those puffapods? It feels like I'm going to be rubbish at Herbology," Blake said.

"That _is_ true," Albus giggled. During their lesson, almost every single pod that Blake had been trying to repot had split open and the beans inside, which would flower the moment it touched something solid, spilled onto their workstation. Professor Longbottom shook his head and smiled, but it was clear that Blake was getting frustrated with his work.

"Git," Blake grinned, poking Albus's side.

"Albus was rubbish in Potions," Rose offered. "For some reason his potion congealed into a purple blob."

"Yours too!?" Sam asked, staring at the raven-haired boy.

"Yeah, I think I stirred the potion too many times or something like that. Professor Corner had me add Boomslang skin and that seemed to put it right, though," Albus said.

"Well, at least we're all bad at something," Blake said.

"Except Rosie. She's been pretty great at everything," Albus added, causing the red head to blush.


	7. Charming

**A/N: Here you go. I'm introducing a new character and part of the story earlier than I thought would happen. It also may not be what you were expecting because it wasn't what I was expecting either, but it works. In fact, this** _ **could**_ **change some of the main story. But I don't think it will. Only time will tell. Please remember to keep reviewing!**

At the end of his first month at Hogwarts, Blake had never felt more exhausted. Between his lessons and homework, he wasn't sure how he was keeping up, but he was. He spent his days in classes, his evenings doing homework or practicing spellwork, and his nights were spent in the common room with his fellow Hufflepuff friends. Twice, he had received an invitation from Albus to join him for a trip down to see the half-giant groundskeeper, Hagrid, and twice now, he had gone with Albus and James Potter and Rose Weasley.

Although he had been extremely frightened of Hagrid at first, after the hour he had spent with him the second Saturday had proven to Blake that the half-giant was extremely friendly, even if he was a little wild. Hagrid had given them rock cakes that had nearly broken his teeth when he tried to eat them and served exceptionally strong tea that Blake couldn't get sweet enough to actually enjoy. These meetings seemed, to Blake, to be his relaxation time. He got to spend it with his close friends Albus and Rose, and even got to know James a little better, while in the comfortable hospitality of Hagrid's Hut.

Blake almost never woke up early, but one particular Saturday morning, he did. He laid in his bed, his eyes shut, willing himself to go back to sleep, but it was no use. He lay there for a few minutes, hoping that he would drift back off, but gave up and started getting ready for the day. The others in his dormitory were still sleeping – Sam snoring softly – so Blake dressed in silence and headed out for the Great Hall, hoping to catch some breakfast and maybe head to the library so that he could start on the essay that Professor Corner had assigned them on sleeping draughts.

He had just exited the common room's barrel exit and was thinking about the breakfast smells that were wafting through the corridor when he bumped into someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry," He muttered, taking a step backwards, and realized that he had walked right into a Slytherin first year, who eyed Blake like he were something unpleasant. Blake had only one class with the Slytherins, Charms with Professor Macmillan. What was he doing down here?

"Avis, right?" the boy asked, watching Blake with his grey eyes. He was tall for most other kids his age – almost as tall as Derrick Peterson, who lived in Blake's dormitory. He was slim, very pale, and the emerald green of Slytherin on his robes complimented his sleek blond hair.

"Uh, yeah. You're Scorpius Malfoy, right?" Blake asked, and the Slytherin nodded. "What brings you down here?"

"A message from Professor Macmillan; he wants both of us to report to him in his office as soon as possible," Scorpius said, holding up a piece of parchment for Blake to see.

"He doesn't say why," Blake noted as he finished reading the note and handed it back to Scorpius. "Any guesses?"

"No," Scorpius said, but Blake noticed his ears turned pink. "But I haven't had breakfast yet, so if you don't mind, I'd like to eat first."

"That is just what I was about to do," Blake said as the Slytherin turned around to head up the corridor.

"Your point?" The other boy asked him as Blake caught up to him.

"My point is, if Macmillan wants to see both of us, we could go together,"

"You don't get the idea of the Houses separating us do you?" Scorpius sighed.

"What does it matter which House we're sorted into? We are allowed to talk to people outside of our Houses," Blake argued.

"Fine." Scorpius said after a few moments when they had made it to the Great Hall, a reluctant tone in his voice. "I will wait for you in the Entrance Hall when we're done eating and then we can go see him."

As Blake sat down and started eating, he thought about Scorpius and the Slytherins. He knew that for some reason Slytherin House always had a bad reputation and tended to stick with themselves rather than making friends with the other Houses. Perhaps that was one of that House's downfalls. He ate quickly and when he saw Scorpius slip out of the Great Hall, he followed him. True to his word, the Slytherin stood by the stairs in the Entrance Hall, his arms folded, and a stern look on his face. And yet, to Blake, he seemed cute with that look of consternation. Wait… did he just think that Scorpius was _cute?_ He shook his head and neared Scorpius.

"Did you eat well?" Blake asked, and the Slytherin glared at him before turning on his heel and marching up the stairs. "…okay then." He muttered before following Scorpius up the stairs.

The winding staircases of Hogwarts would have been confusing enough on their own, as they stretched intricately through the seven floors, but the fact that they moved on their own and seemed to have minds of their own made it impossible for Blake to keep up with where they were going. He had been late to their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson because he got turned around and wound up three floors above where the class was supposed to be.

They finally arrived outside of Professor Macmillan's office, and Scorpius knocked, the loud bang echoing down the corridor. As early as it was on a Saturday, hardly anyone was awake, making the castle feel eerie and empty.

The door to the room opened, revealing Professor Macmillan dressed in deep blue robes, his eyes sparkling.

"Good morning! Come in, come in. I'm sorry to be calling you here on your Saturdays, but it's rather important," He said, ushering them into the office. He settled behind his chair and steepled his hands, looking at the two students over them.

"Professor, if you don't mind my asking, why are we here?" Scorpius asked.

"Oh dear boy, you should both be aware," Macmillan answered, raising an eyebrow.

At this, Blake turned to look at Scorpius, whose ears had turned red as though with embarrassment. Thinking back on their month of lessons, Blake had noticed that the Slytherin's Charms work was rather shoddy. It reminded Blake of his own failures in Herbology. In that class alone, he had sustained more injuries over the course of one month than he had in his entire life. Professor Longbottom had started taking precautions in allowing him to actually work with the plants and instead had him take notes from afar. The professor was unsure, as was Blake, as to why the plants seemed to be so vicious toward him. Scorpius Malfoy had caused half of the charms they had been practicing in class to backfire somehow. Twice now, he had set his robes on fire.

"To put it mildly, Mr. Malfoy, you are in need of some… extra instruction. Mr. Avis, you seem to excel at Charms; therefore, I want each of you to start meeting once weekly with me and we will do some extra instructional work. Perhaps Mr. Avis can lend you some pointers, Mr. Malfoy," The professor said. To Blake's astonishment, Scorpius's ears had turned even darker, as though they were bleeding, and he had a definite pink tinge to his usually pale face.

"I don't need help," He began stubbornly.

"Mr. Malfoy pride will not help you here. You will meet in my office weekly, Saturdays at this time. Whether you choose to inform your classmates about this is entirely up to you. You may go now; we shall begin next week."

The two boys left the room silently. Blake was afraid to say anything to Scorpius in case the boy went off. When they rounded the corridor, Scorpius pushed Blake against the wall with his forearm, his elbow digging slightly into Blake's underarm, and his wand in Blake's face.

"If you mention this to _anyone_ , I'll curse you into next year. Understand?" The Slytherin hissed, his eyes sharp, and his tone angry. Blake had never been more terrified.

"I won't! I promise!" He said, attempting to hold his hands up in surrender. This seemed to put Scorpius at ease. He put his wand away and stepped back from the smaller boy, looking down at him.

"I may as well get used to using your name then, Avis," Scorpius said.

"Well then, you shouldn't use my last name," Blake argued.

"Blake, then," Scorpius muttered, his gray eyes flashing. Once more, his face had turned pink. The Slytherin backed away. "I… guess I'll see you, then." He said, before disappearing around the corner.

Blake stared at the wall where the Slytherin had disappeared, wondering about the morning and the events that had just taken place. For some reason, he thought that Scorpius was cute. He had agreed to wait for him after they finished eating so that they could go see Professor Macmillan together. He would be doing weekly lessons with Scorpius to help improve his Charm work, and the Slytherin didn't want anyone to find out.

Shaking his head, Blake headed for the library to start on the Potions essay that he had ultimately been setting out for to begin with.

XXX

Nearly a week had passed before Scorpius and Blake saw each other again. The taller boy stared at Blake as though daring him to say anything to him as they entered the class for their Charms lesson. Blake took his seat next to Josh and Sam and as they began work on the levitation charm that Professor Macmillan put out for them to work on, Josh took the chance to speak. Charms was a great class to hold conversations due to the general mayhem and loud talking that was already happening.

"Scorpius Malfoy keeps glancing this way," Josh said quietly, waving his wand. The feather in front of him gave a half-hearted twitch.

"What?" Sam asked, both he and Blake glancing across the room. Sure enough, though he was trying not to make it noticeable, Scorpius Malfoy kept glancing up and across the room and back down to his feather.

"I wonder why?" Blake asked, hoping that he wouldn't sound conspicuous.

"Beats me. But it looks like he's looking at _you_ ," Sam said, turning his attention to his own feather.

Blake turned his attention to the feather in front of him, did the swish and flick movement that Professor Macmillan had been teaching them, and said " _Wingardium leviosa!_ "

The feather went up in the air, much to Blake's own delight. It hovered for a moment, and then he let it drift down onto the desk.

"How do you _do_ that?" Sam asked, frowning at Blake.

"It's simple. Just think light an-" A loud explosion cut Blake off and as he glanced up, Scorpius Malfoy was staring at the ashen remains of his feather, his face tinged with pink, his ears red.

"Well that's unfortunate," Blake said.

"Mr. Malfoy," Professor Macmillan sighed, waving his wand so that the ash vanished and in its place was another feather. "Do be more careful!"

"I wonder what he keeps doing wrong," Blake muttered more to himself than to the other two, who were roaring with laughter at the sight of Scorpius, who was now turning red in the face as well.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked after he finished laughing, turning to Blake.

"Nothing, nothing," Blake said, turning his attention to the other two. "Now your feathers – just think light and airy. Will your feather to lift into the air."

By the end of the class, it appeared that only half of the class managed to get their feathers into the air. Much to Blake's dismay, three more feathers exploded – including Scorpius's second feather. The poor thing really _was_ awful at Charms.

Over the next few days, Blake wondered how on earth he would be able to help Scorpius Malfoy. It got to the point that Josh snapped his fingers in front of Blake's face as he stared into the fire, contemplating how someone could be so rubbish at something.

"What?" Blake asked, stirring out of his reverie.

"You were staring into space again," Josh said, indicating the fire place. "What's got you so distracted?"

"Nothing… Just lots of work," Blake tried, shrugging. Not to mention that he would be meeting Scorpius the next morning.

"Maybe you should get some sleep," Josh suggested. "You've been tossing in your sleep lately."

"Have I?" Blake asked, looking confused.

"Yeah, it's kind of loud when you're tossing every five seconds," Josh smirked. "Having nightmares or something?"

"I… don't think so," Blake said, looking down at his half-attempted Transfiguration essay.

Now that Blake thought about it, he had been having a nightmare about getting into a duel with Scorpius Malfoy, getting transfigured into a pinecone, and being stuck that way. "Maybe you're right. I should get some sleep."

That night he dreamed about being a pinecone again.

He woke early the next morning once again and headed out to get breakfast, once again finding himself bumping into Scorpius outside of the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room.

"Good morni…" He stopped, staring up at the blond who was glaring at him like he had committed a crime.

"Did you tell anyone?" The boy demanded.

"About this?" Blake asked, indicating the two of them.

"About the… ah… _lessons_ ," Scorpius hissed quietly, as though afraid someone would hear.

"No," Blake said, wide eyed. "Why would I? Especially since you threatened to curse me into next year?" This seemed to calm the Slytherin, and they fell in step heading up to the Great Hall for breakfast. The Slytherin seemed warmer than the last time they had met like this.

"You're friendlier today," Blake said, when they reached the Great Hall.

"Excuse me?" Scorpius asked, staring at the Hufflepuff.

"You heard me," Blake grinned, before entering the Great Hall.

When Blake got up, he saw Scorpius getting up out of the corner of his eye and he waited for the Slytherin at the stairs in the Entrance Hall.

"I am _not_ being friendlier," Scorpius said as they climbed the stairs. "I'm just being more civil."

"Whatever you say, Scorpius," Blake said, grinning.

"Stop grinning,"

"Don't tell me what to do,"

They made the rest of the climb to the Charms Corridor in silence.


	8. The Incident

**A/N: Keep in mind that these guys are only 1** **st** **years. They are 11. No major romance is going to be happening anytime soon. Maybe a crush or two, but that'll be about it, for now. Please remember to keep reviewing! Also, I'm sorry that this chapter is shorter than the others have been, but it seemed like a good place to end the chapter. I'm sure that the next chapter will be a bit longer, if not it's normal chapter length.**

XXX

The lesson was going worse than Blake could have predicted. Scorpius Malfoy was, to put it politely, complete rubbish at charms.

"You need to focus," Blake said for the hundredth time, watching the Slytherin with wide eyes.

"What do you think I'm _trying to do?_ " He asked angrily, snarling at the Hufflepuff.

"Now boys, fighting will get you absolutely nowhere. Let's try again. Remember, you want to envision the light coming from your wand, Mr. Malfoy. Concentrate, now," Professor Macmillan said from his desk, where he sat observing the two.

Scorpius screwed up his face in tight concentration, waved his wand, and said the incantation, but once again, nothing happened.

"You do it then," Scorpius said bitterly, watching Blake. Blake raised his wand, gave it a quick flick, and muttered " _Lumos_ ," and the tip of his wand lit up.

"I think I might know what you're doing wrong, Scorpius," Blake said. "Try flicking your wrong faster. Your idea of concentration is good enough, but I think you're going too slowly for the magic to actually be cast."

Scorpius raised an eyebrow, but flicked his wand and said " _Lumos!_ "

To Blake's surprise, and to Scorpius's own, his wand ignited in light.

"Well, there you go then!" Blake said happily, as Scorpius stared at his wand amazed.

"You should probably cut it out before you over-use the charm. It _can_ backfire on you, you know," Professor Macmillan said. "The incantation is _nox_."

As though his words had told Scorpius's wand to over-use the charm, the light turned scarlet.

" _Nox!_ " Scorpius shouted, his face concentrating, and the light faded.

"Just don't be afraid of your magic, Scorpius," Blake said, offering him a smile.

"I'm not afraid of my magic!" Scorpius argued, pointing his wand at Blake. " _Titillando!_ " He said, a smirk on his face as the purple beams from his wand wrapped themselves around Blake and began tickling the smaller boy.

Blake was doubled over with laughing before Professor Macmillan lifted the spell.

"That will do," He said, eyeing the Slytherin. "How is it, Mr. Malfoy, that you are easily able to conjure a tickling charm when you can't even produce a levitation charm properly?"

"It's because he doesn't enjoy it," Blake said, looking at the Slytherin with a grin on his face.

"Excuse you?" Scorpius asked, glaring at him.

"You were able to make a tickling charm because you wanted to and because you enjoyed it. That's one of the things about charms – the more you enjoy it, the better you'll be at it," Blake said, shrugging. "So instead of thinking of it as a chore, actually learn to love it."

"That will do for the day then, boys. It's clear that you aren't a complete dunce, Mr. Malfoy. I'll see you back next week," Professor Macmillan interjected, pointing at the door.

As the two students left the office, Blake punched Scorpius's arm.

"What was that for?" Scorpius complained, rubbing his bicep.

"For using a tickling charm on me," Blake grinned.

"Next time it'll be worse," Scorpius argued.

"Oh yeah?" Blake asked playfully. He wasn't sure what it was, but something about the Slytherin made Blake feel happy and playful.

"Don't tempt me," 

"What is the Big Bad Slytherin gonna use on me?"

"How about actually tickling you himself?" Scorpius asked, and he reached down and poked Blake in the sides, causing the smaller boy to jump.

"Hey, that isn't fair! That's not even a spell," Blake argued, glaring at the Slytherin.

"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy," A drawling voice sounded down the corridor, its tone highly disapproving. Blake risked glancing at Scorpius and noticed how the boy suddenly drew in very tightly, his face getting its pink tinge and his ears red like they did when he got embarrassed. Striding down the corridor toward them was a man in long black robes who looked remarkably like an older Scorpius Malfoy. It took Blake a moment to realize that this must be his father. What was it that he had called Scorpius? Hyperion? What kind of a middle name was that?

"F-father," Scorpius said, his usually demeanor vanished and replaced with something much… less.

"I wrote to you yesterday letting you know that I would arrive today. Did you not receive the message?" Mr. Malfoy asked, looking between his son and Blake. "Who are you?"

"Father, I didn't receive the owl," Scorpius said, before Blake could open his mouth. "This is Blake Avis, he's helping me with some homework."

"A Malfoy asking for help from a Hufflepuff? Interesting," Mr. Malfoy said, raising a pale eyebrow at his son.

"I didn't ask him! I mean…" Scorpius said quickly, but Mr. Malfoy raised a hand, and Scorpius said nothing more.

"I am aware that Mr. Avis is helping you with your Charms. This is what brings me here. Mr. Avis, if you will excuse me, I need to have a word with my son," Mr. Malfoy said, looking at his son intently.

"I… okay. See you around, Scorpius," Blake said, suddenly worried for his friend. There was something about Mr. Malfoy that made Blake uneasy, but he couldn't tell what it was.

XXX

The week passed with Blake not seeing Scorpius, even in their classes or passing through the corridors. He wanted to mention Mr. Malfoy's arrival to Josh and Sam, but he couldn't do that without exposing that Scorpius was awful at Charms and that Blake was helping him with extra lessons. He tried to focus on his homework and although he finished it, it was half-hearted.

It was late on Friday evening before Blake saw Scorpius again. Blake had been coming back from the library where he had finished writing an essay on Devil's Snare for Professor Longbottom, but there was only so much he could do, considering that most of the plants tried to kill him whenever he got close to them, a fact that boggled Professor Longbottom's mind.

"I'm not sure what it is, Mr. Avis, but these plants _really_ hate you," the professor told him one afternoon when they had finished class and the professor had held him back after class to talk to him. "I've never seen something like this. I think that I'll have a word with the Headmistress. She actually used to do this job, you know. She may have an answer."

Blake was pondering this when a hand reached out and pulled Blake by his robes into a dark corner. Blake yelped, but a pale hand quickly covered Blake's mouth to stifle the shout. It took him a moment for his eyes to adjust in the shadows, but he found himself facing Scorpius Malfoy, their noses almost touching. The boy was paler than usual, his eyes slightly red as though he had been crying, but they had the familiar gleam in them that Blake had noticed when they had first started on their extra lessons.

"Finally; do you know how hard it is to talk to someone when they're always surrounded by people?" Scorpius whispered, pulling his hand away from Blake's mouth.

"Scorpius, what in Merlin's beard is going on here?" Blake asked, staring at the Slytherin.

"I've been trying to find you to talk to you since last Saturday after my Father left. But you're always around those two Hufflepuff friends of yours. And those other two, the Gryffindors – Potter and Weasley, or whatever her name is. Anyway, the point is, Father was unhappy with my unsatisfactory performance in Charms and he was even unhappier with the fact that you're a Hufflepuff. He tried asking Professor Macmillan to have another Slytherin help, or at the very least a Ravenclaw, but Macmillan refused and assured Father that you're the best in our year at Charms," Scorpius whispered quickly, watching Blake for a reaction.

"Did he…? That… well, I… Thanks?" Blake said flustered, his face flushing bright pink. The Slytherin smirked and continued talking then.

"Well, father wasn't happy about that, so we went to talk to Professor Sprout about it, but you know, Sprout was a Hufflepuff when she was a student, and when she was just a normal teacher she was also the Head of Hufflepuff House and she didn't like Father's insinuation that you were possibly inept at anything just because you're a Hufflepuff. So she denied him when he asked for an older student to help, and said that we would be working together until Professor Macmillan decided otherwise,"

"Really?" Blake demanded, staring at Scorpius. "Then why are we talking so quietly?"

"Because Father doesn't want me 'making friends with the wrong sort', or whatever that's supposed to mean," Scorpius said.

"But I'm not 'the wrong sort' of anything," Blake argued.

"I know, but Father is still prejudiced even if he has tried not to be… it's something to do with the last Wizarding War; he and Mother refuse to talk about it. Anyway, I didn't feel like listening to him, so I'm making it known to you now that I want to associate myself with you, even if you're 'the wrong sort' in Father's book," Scorpius said.

"So, like friends then?" Blake asked, staring at the boy in front of him.

"Yes, you idiot," Scorpius laughed.

Blake wasn't sure what made him do it, but he closed the space between them and wrapped his arms around Scorpius in a hug. He felt Scorpius stiffen slightly, and when he pulled away, Scorpius's face was guarded, his eyes glaring.

"What was that for?" He hissed.

"Just a hug. What, don't you know what that is?" Blake teased.

"You don't just _hug_ someone!" Scorpius argued, crossing his arms.

"Well, I do. What's wrong, are the Malfoy's very high and proper or something?" Blake asked. He didn't mean for it to come out as rude as it did, but Scorpius did seem stung by it.

"That's rude," He responded.

"Oh bloody hell… Scorpius I'm sorry. I should have asked before I just randomly hugged you. And I shouldn't have been so rude toward you and your family," Blake said worriedly.

"It's fine. But next time, I won't be as forgiving," Scorpius said, still watching Blake warily.

"So I'll see you tomorrow morning then?" Blake asked. The Slytherin nodded.

"Outside of your Common Room like normal," Scorpius answered, and nodded.


	9. Accidents and Confessions

**A/N: Sorry about the lack of a chapter last weekend and this weekend. I had a LOT going on at school (including a four hour dress rehearsal and a three hour concert to give as well as reading two Shakespeare plays and writing a paper comparing and contrasting them, plus travel between university and home.). Here you are, I hope you enjoy. I tried to make it average length, if not a little longer than usual.**

XXX

Blake absolutely despised flying. He was rubbish at it, and it somehow made him feel even more stupid when everyone was flying before he was. The broom he worked with refused to even lift up into his hand when Madam Hooch had coached them on it. It took him four flying lessons before he finally got the broom to fly up into his hand, and another two lessons before he was able to keep steady in the air. He decided that he much preferred ground travel, especially after what happened in his lesson one breezy afternoon.

"Up!" He shouted at his broom for the tenth time, causing most of the students to jump as his voice echoed through the courtyard. The broom finally rose into his hand, much to Madam Hooch's satisfaction. The last time had taken twenty tries.

"We'll make a flyer out of you yet," Madam Hooch said fondly. Madam Hooch, who refereed for the school Quidditch matches as well as instructed first year flying lessons, told him in private that she was completely awful at flying when she first began. She watched him with her yellow hawk-like eyes, and it made him rather uncomfortable. "On my whistle, then. Kick off hard, hover for a few seconds, and then touch back down. One, two –" the rest of her sentence was cut short by a shrill whistle blast.

Blake kicked hard off of the ground and felt the broom rise up. The broom, however, gave a violent shake, and suddenly it flew forward at an alarming speed.

" _Impedimenta!_ " He heard Madam Hooch shriek, but her spell missed. The broom flew into a wall with a very harsh cracking sound, and the wood splintered in Blake's hands. He felt the sting of the wood entering his palms, but it was dull compared to the sudden searing pain that was in his arms and face. He collapsed and tried to stick his arms out to break the fall, but they burned to painfully that he couldn't move them.

He felt hands on him the, but he was fueled with so much pain that he couldn't tell who it was. They flipped him onto his back, and the pain in his face and arms flared so much that he cried out.

"Blake? Can you hear me?" Said the person, their voice full of panic, and Blake vaguely recognized it as the sound of Scorpius Malfoy's voice.

"Out of the way!" Madam Hooch's voice shouted. Blake sensed Scorpius shifting, but he didn't leave, much to Blake's surprise. "It looks like he's broken both arms and heaven's knows what's happened in his face. We need to get him to the Hospital Wing." She said.

"Professor, I don't think moving him is such a good idea," Said another voice to Blake's right, across from Scorpius. Albus Potter?

"One of you go find Madam Pomfrey. _Now!_ " She shouted. More searing pain. If they weren't fast enough, he would pass out.

"Blake, listen to me. Try to breathe and don't pass out, now," Madam Hooch whispered softly, delicately probing his arms and face. Every touch made him wince and cringe horribly, causing more pain to run through him. After a few moments of silence next to Blake's continued whispers, he heard footsteps approaching quickly as more people joined the scene.

"Good gods!" Yelped a teacher whose voice he didn't recognize. " _Brackium emendo! Brackium Faciem!_ " Immediately a hot searing pain shot up Blake's arms and through his face, but moments later it died away and the pain seemed to recede into a dull ache. "That's the best I can do. Madam Pomfrey needs to look at him still."

A few moments passed before Blake was able to open his eyes. Everything seemed blurry, and there was a bit of a mutter rising up from the gathered teachers and students. Madam Hooch's face swam above him, but it wouldn't come into focus.

"What were you thinking? You could have died," She said.

"I didn't," Blake mumbled.

"What's that?" She asked, coming closer.

"Didn't do it," He muttered.

"You didn't do what? Fly the broom forward? Oh dear…" She trailed off.

"What happened?" Came a new voice, and another face appeared in his view, also blurred.

"The broom flew him into the wall. Broken arms and lord knows what in his face. Septima used a few bone healing charms, but I'm not sure what is and isn't damaged," Madam Hooch said. A moment later, the woman waved her wand over him and clucked her tongue.

" _Emendo_ spells can do the job for the larger bones but they hardly do anything for the finer bones in the face. They'll fix, but these aren't set in the right place. What's your name, dear?" The new woman asked.

"Blake Avis," Blake said, trying to focus his eyes but to no avail.

"Alright, Blake, we're going to get you up to the Hospital Wing and I'm going to administer you some Draught of Living Death. We have to re-break your facial bones in order for them to set properly – that's why your vision is blurry, by the way. Your facial bones around your eyes have set with that spells to that your eyes are actually being pushed in different directions. Don't worry about pain, you won't feel a thing while you're under the potion," The woman said calmly, before waving her wand and conjuring what appeared to be a stretcher. "You two, help move him onto the stretcher and we'll see him up to the castle." She said, and Blake felt Scorpius's and Albus's hands lifting him gently. Moments later, the stretcher he was on rose and he passed through the doors of the castle and up the corridors of the staircases. He felt the stretcher descend as he was placed on a bed and then it vanished beneath him.

"Here, dear, drink this. It isn't going to be pleasant," The woman, who Blake had assumed was Madam Pomfrey, said gently, raising his head up so that he could swallow without chocking. The liquid was icy in his mouth and tasted so sweet that he had to fight the urge to gag. It burned as it went down his throat, but moments later, he lost consciousness.

XXX

When he woke up next, it was dark in the Hospital Wing. His mouth was so dry it felt like he had been licking a block of salt, and there was a horrible pain in his head. He blinked, relieved to see that his vision was back to normal. On a small table next to his bed was an assortment of sweets. He yawned, wincing at the splits that opened in his dry lips, and closed his eyes, once more falling asleep.

The next morning, the pain that had been in his head the night before had completely vanished. He sat up in the bed, and tried to call out for Madam Pomfrey, but his mouth and throat were so dry he couldn't produce any sound. He noticed movement to his right and jumped at the sight of Scorpius Malfoy staring at him.

"Madam Pomfrey, he's awake!" Scorpius called, standing and coming toward his bed. The Slytherin frowned at him, but said nothing else. The matron bustled around a curtain that had been erected around the bed and smiled with satisfaction. She handed him a glass of water, which Blake eagerly downed.

"There you are then, dear. You did well. You were only out for a week," She said. At this, Blake almost choked on his water.

"A week!?" He gasped a moment later after gulping down the water. His voice broke awkwardly from lack of use, but he ignored it. He was more concerned with the fact that he was now a whole week behind in his classes.

"Yes, there was more damage than I thought, and we had a lot of bones to break. At least the bruising is gone. You should have seen yourself two days ago, completely purple and blue in the face. Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter have been here every day to see you," Madam Pomfrey said, smiling. She didn't notice, however, that Scorpius's ears turned pink. "Now, you'll be here for another night until I'm happy that you don't have any lingering effects from the draught I gave you, and then you can go. I'll have one of the House Elves bring you some food…" She trailed off, disappearing into the depths of the Hospital Wing.

When she was out of earshot, Blake turned to look at Scorpius, whose face had gotten the pink tinge and his ears had turned red – it wasn't unlike when he had seen him being spoken to by his father.

"You came to see me every day?" Blake asked, and suddenly the Slytherin smacked him. Not hard, but enough for Blake to yelp. "What was that for?" He asked angrily.

"You could have _died_ , you _idiot!_ " Scorpius hissed, staring at him. His gray eyes were stormy and stared at Blake accusingly.

"I didn't do it on purpose," Blake said, rubbing his cheek from where Scorpius had hit him. "I don't know what happened, to be honest. The broom acted like it had a mind of its own."

"The broom acted of its own accord?" Scorpius asked, his eyes wide. They lost their stormy quality.

"Yes. I told Madam Hooch, but she didn't seem to think anything of it at the time," Blake explained, watching the Slytherin as though afraid he might slap him again.

"Of course she didn't, you were severely injured. Madam Pomfrey was right, about things being worse than they seemed. She broke so many bones to reset them that you weren't recognizable until yesterday," Scorpius said, eyeing him.

"So you _were_ here every day then," Blake said. For some reason, a surge of satisfaction rolled through Blake.

"Don't be a git about it," Scorpius argued before smiling gently. "Besides," He said, his tone changing and the smile dropping. "So was Albus Potter."

"What's wrong with Al? He was my first friend in the Wizarding World," Blake said, confused.

"Oh it has nothing do with you being friends…" Scorpius started, before trailing off and his pink tinges coming back. Wait. Was it possible, Blake thought, that Scorpius Malfoy was… jealous?

"Are you jealous?" Blake asked, and Scorpius looked like he would rather jump out of the window than admit to that. "I won't say anything if you were. But as far as I know, Albus and I are just friends."

"Why would I be jealous if you're just friends if _we're_ just friends?" Scorpius questioned, his head tipping sideways.

"I dunno, why _are_ you jealous?" Blake asked, smiling playfully.

"Maybe…" Scorpius started, but a moment later Madam Pomfrey came around the curtain screen with a tray of food.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy are you still here? You should go, he needs to eat and get some more rest," The Matron said, setting the tray of food in front of him. At this, Scorpius nodded and glanced briefly at Blake before vanishing.

The food seemed very unappetizing after that. What had Scorpius been about to say to him?

Later in the evening, Albus came to visit with Rose.

"Well, good to see you're finally awake," Albus said, and both Gryffindors grinned. "Did you have a good hibernation?"

"Oh shut up," Blake said good-naturedly, stuffing chocolate frog into his mouth. He offered one to both of his friends, who smiled and took them. "Did I miss anything?"

"Professor Longbottom assigned us an essay, but I think he's going to let you off the hook – especially since you write all lesson anyway," Rose said, winking. "And we have an essay for Professor Finch-Fletchley but I don't know if you will have that too since we don't have Transfiguration together."

"I can't believe I was out for a whole week," Blake sighed, glancing out the window above the bed across the room from him.

"Yeah, between you and Albus and Scorpius Malfoy, I'm not sure who lost more time. Both of them have been here quite a bit," Rose said, and Albus blushed.

"I just wanted to make sure that you were okay," Albus said. "I don't know about Scorpius Malfoy though. He seemed like he cared more than me, which I thought was odd."

"We had a conversation about that earlier," Blake said. "He's jealous of you, for some reason."

"Jealous of _me?_ But _why?_ " Albus asked incredulously.

"I'm not sure why. Before he was about to tell me, Madam Pomfrey interrupted our conversation." Blake explained.

"Well that's certainly interesting," Rose frowned. "I wonder why."

"It could be anything," Blake shrugged.

Madam Pomfrey appeared then to usher them out, and Blake fell asleep soon after they departed.

XXX

Early the next morning, Madam Pomfrey gave Blake a once-over with her wand before deciding that she was happy with his recovery.

"What day is it, by the way? I've lost track of time," Blake asked as she escorted him to the door.

"Oh, it's Saturday. I think you'll be able to get breakfast," She told him, before shutting the door.

Saturday! But did that mean that he needed to meet for a lesson with Scorpius? At this thought, he spun around and found himself face to face with the very same Slytherin he had just been thinking about, his gray eyes wide.

"Good morning," he said, before pulling Blake into his arms for a hug. When he pulled away his face was flushed. "I'm glad you're out."

"I'm happy to see you too," Blake said, smiling.

"Should we get breakfast?" Scorpius said, holding a hand out to Blake, who took it, but his eyes were wide with questions.

"Sure. But you have lots of explaining to do," Blake said, nodding to their held hands.

"Well, about what I was saying yesterday morning… I think I was jealous because I thought that there might be something between you and Albus Potter. And I was jealous because I want there to be something between us," He said, staring straight ahead as they started walking.

"Scorpius Malfoy, are you asking me to be more than just friends?" Blake asked, teasingly.

"Yes," He answered, pulling Blake to a stop. "I'm asking if you want to be my boyfriend."

Blake was entirely caught off guard. Scorpius was pink and red and adorable while he awaited Blake's response.

"Yes," Blake said. They continued down the corridor toward the Great Hall for breakfast, holding hands until they reached the stairs where prying eyes would make Scorpius uncomfortable.


	10. Delicate Situations

**A/N: College life is difficult. I'm sorry I've been away for so long. Anywhere, here you are, if any of you are reading this anymore. Major twists starting this chapter.**

XXX

With all of their extra lessons, Scorpius Malfoy had indeed gotten much better at his Charmswork. He had virtually no trouble casting spells that he had learned, and only had little trouble mastering newer skills. With the evidence proving itself, at the end of their last meeting, Professor Macmillan sat them down, smiling.

"Well boys, I think we can both agree that you've improved tremendously," the professor said, smiling happily at Scorpius. "I'm awarding both of you twenty points for hard work and determination. Also, this'll be our last meeting."

"Last lesson? But Professor, I'm awful," Scorpius said, his eyes wide. Blake knew that there were other reasons behind his words – the two of them had been speculating about their meetings being canceled for a while; they'd been meeting for the majority of the term, and Halloween was just around the corner. If their lessons were being canceled there was going to be a problem, because it was the only time that they really got the chance to spend together.

"Mr. Malfoy, I think you can agree with me that you are no longer awful – at least not the extent that you were when you first started these lessons," Professor Macmillan frowned, looking at the boy with a look of confusion. "Why the sudden cold feet?"

"I just…" Scorpius started, and then trailed off.

"He doesn't want to go back to being the worst," Blake offered, smiling.

"Well he won't. And if you do, Scorpius, then you can always ask Blake for some help. Now, go on. I'll see you in class later."

The two boys left the office, an air of reluctance hanging around them. When they reached the corner where they had begun standing with each other prior to going their separate ways, Scorpius pulled Blake into a hug, much to Blake's surprise.

"Thank you," the blond said, pulling back.

"For what?" Blake asked.

"For helping me get better. And for being with me," Scorpius said, smiling.

"Well you know, of course," Blake said, blushing.

"So; we need to figure out how we're going to spend time together now that this is done," Scorpius said, nodding his head toward Professor Macmillan's office.

"We can still do Saturday mornings if you want to – we can just find a different place to be together," Blake offered. "There are a few empty classrooms that we can just use."

"I guess so, but what if someone comes in on us?" Scorpius asked worriedly.

"Who cares, Scorpius? They'll just think we're friends," Blake said, watching the Slytherin.

"But… But, Blake, you know my dad. What if it gets back to him?"

"Merlin's beard, I always forget about your dad," Blake said quietly, his eyes looking down. In truth, Blake thought very often about Draco Malfoy. The man, while he tried to not be prejudiced, was unable to see eye to eye about same-sex couples. He thought they were wrong. Perhaps it had something to do with his father, Lucius Malfoy. If the knowledge that Scorpius and Blake were dating got back to Draco, Blake hated to think about what might happen.

"Well, what if we told him that we were going to continue meeting on our own just in case?" Scorpius offered, looking at Blake questioningly.

"It might work, but do you think your dad will fall for it?" Blake asked. The blond huffed and crossed his arms.

"I don't know what will happen,"

"Well, there isn't any since in worrying about it right now. How about you write him a letter and we'll just wait and see what happens. I don't think that he'll be too bothered about you staying on top of your studies,"

"I guess there's no harm in trying…" Scorpius trailed off, thinking. "Oh alright, I'll write a letter and send it off after lunch."

"Good," Blake said, hugging the Slytherin again, but he didn't tense up like he normally did at the contact. "Now, have a good day. I have a Potions essay to write," Blake said, grimacing.

"Good luck with that," Scorpius said.

XXX

It had been two weeks since Scorpius' letter had been delivered to Malfoy Manor, and Draco Malfoy didn't know how to respond to his son. He was shocked that Scorpius was as awful at charms as Macmillan had told him, and although he was begrudging to allow his son work with that Hufflepuff boy, he couldn't deny that since they had been having private meetings to work on it that Scorpius had gotten much better.

But now, though Macmillan had decided that Scorpius was ready to stop having lessons, Scorpius wanted to continue having lesson times with the Avis boy to stay on top of his work; it wasn't that Draco didn't want for his son to succeed, it was just that he couldn't understand _why_ he wanted to continue meeting with the Avis boy if his teacher was convinced that Scorpius was good enough to stop meeting.

Astoria hadn't been much help on the subject either. On the night that the letter arrived, the two of them had been in an argument regarding a financial problem that Astoria had caused, and when the Pinky the house elf brought the letter into the drawing room, Astoria left promptly and Draco hadn't seen her until he went to bed that night and even then she wasn't speaking to him. She left the mansion early in the morning and wouldn't return until dinner.

On the evening exactly two weeks later of the letter's arrival, just as Draco had made up his mind to allow the two to continue meeting, Pinky appeared in the room with a loud _crack!_ and bowed lowly so that her pencil-thin nose nearly touched the ground.

"Yes Pinky, what is it?" He asked, looking at the elf. Her large blue eyes looked like floating lights amidst the pink and wrinkled skin, and often Draco couldn't help but feel a pang of regret at the thought of his former house elf, Dobby. Although Harry and Draco had never become friends, Draco eventually learned what became of Dobby and although he didn't necessarily like the creature, he didn't wish that he had died.

"Master, a stranger waits in the kitchens. Shall Pinky see her up, sir?" She asked, her high voice reedy but sweet nevertheless.

"A stranger? Did she identify himself?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. It wasn't unusual for strangers to call on the Malfoys, but he did take precaution, particularly with his past. He had placed wards on the mansion that would prevent certain people to enter the mansion, but he was sure he had missed something.

"No sir, she says that she needs to see you, sir," Pinky said, watching him.

"Very well," Draco sighed, running a hand through his blond hair. "Bring her to my study."

Pinky nodded and with vanished with another loud _crack!_

Draco stood from his place at the drawing room table and headed into his study, glancing at the time and finding himself shocked that it was already six in the evening. He'd have sworn that it had been four when he went into the drawing room, but then he was hardly ever aware of what happened around him unless it pertained to his family or his work.

He had just sat down when the door to his study opened and Pinky walked in, followed quickly by the womman who had come to see him.

"Hello, my house elf says that you have some business with me, but she says that you're also a stranger. How can I help you?" Draco asked pleasantly. The woman was very tall, almost as tall as Ron Weasley, Draco thought. Her long red hair cascaded around her shoulders in gentle waves, and her long face betrayed nothing as she took her seat, her blue eyes never leaving Draco. She folded her hands and said nothing as though waiting for something.

"Would Master and Miss like some tea?" Pinky asked, and when Draco nodded, she disappeared.

"I thought she wouldn't leave," The woman said, her voice deeper than Draco expected, with a slight Scottish lilt to it. "The name's Tala Flemming, Mr. Malfoy. And I daresay you won't be able to help me, but you'll be able to help yourself a bit." She said, reaching into her purple robes and pulling out a letter written in a sloping hand.

"Well Ms. Flemming, what's this?" Draco asked, holding a hand out for the letter. After a moment of hesitation, she dropped the letter into his hands.

Draco scanned the letter quickly, his eyes widening with every line. He read it three more times before looking at the woman in horror, and he could see the worry in the woman's eyes.

"How… Who… Why…," Draco stuttered, unable to form a cohesive thought for what he wanted to ask first.

"Get yourself out of the country, Mr. Malfoy. I'm not supposed to have delivered this to you, and I may lose my life for this. Find your wife and your son and leave immediately," She said.

"But… there's no signature, who is this from?" Draco asked, dread settling in his stomach.

"Mr. Malfoy, you may have escaped Azkaban after the results of the second war because of your quick turn, but that doesn't mean that there aren't hard feelings among some of the old supporters. There are Dark forces working once more, Mr. Malfoy," She said, standing up.

"Why did you not take this directly to the Aurors?" Draco asked, snarling.

"Because Mr. Malfoy, you have very little time left, and we all know how slowly the Aurors can be with delicate matters like these. Now, I'd suggest you get going. I'll let myself out," She said, and walked through the door.

Draco couldn't believe what had just happened… and if she was telling any ounce of truth to what the letter held… everything he held dear was in mortal danger.

"Pinky!" Draco shouted, and the elf appeared with a _pop!_

"Yes Master?" She asked, bowing.

"Pinky, forget the tea. She's gone. I need you to find Astoria and bring her here immediately. Apparate her here by force if you must. Then you must go and fetch Scorpius from Hogwarts. I'll send a letter to Professor Sprout to explain the situation… And after, I need you to bring Harry Potter here. Do you understand? This is very important, you must do this immediately."

The elf bowed and vanished once more.

He shuffled a paper and a quill in front of him and began writing quickly. When he was done, he sealed the letter, woke the eagle owl Hermes from his sleep and attached the letter to him and watched somberly as the owl flew out of the window.

"Draco?" Astoria asked, her tone stern as she entered the room. Draco turned to face her and the expression on his face must have told her something because she closed the space between them in a moment, and grabbed his shoulders. "Draco? What's wrong?"

Without speaking, he crossed to the desk and handed her the letter. Her reactions were the same as his own.

"What are we going to do?" She asked, her voice trembling.

"I don't know. Get out of the country, I suppose. Pinky is going to fetch Scorpius and then I'm having her bring Harry Potter here. As the head of the Aurors I'm sure he'll have an answer for us," Draco said, trying not to betray the calamity building inside of him.

With the end of Draco's sentence, Scorpius hurried into the room looking exceptionally confused.

"Father? Mother? What's going on? Why did Pinky just bring me here?"

"Don't worry about it just now, dear," Astoria said, smiling gently. "Go upstairs for now, and we'll call you down for dinner." She waited until he was out of the room before turning to her husband. "What, exactly, are we going to tell him?"

"I guess it'll have to be the truth," Draco said, looking defeated.

"We can't tell him that we're fleeing the country for our lives!" Astoria hissed.

"I don't know what more to do!" Draco whispered harshly.

"Malfoy? What's going on?" Came the voice of Harry Potter, being led into the room by Pinky.

"Potter. Thank god you're here. We need your help," Draco said, walking over to him.

"What do you mean, you need my help?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Something has… come up. We need the Aurors help on this," Draco said delicately, handing him the letter.

"Dear god Malfoy… We have to get you out of the country immediately. Is Scorpius here?" Harry asked, his eyes hardening as he switched into Auror mode.

"He's upstairs… we told him that we would call him down for dinner. How long do you think we have?" Astoria asked, terrified.

"I'd say no more than two days. I'll have to contact the Office of Magical Law Enforcement. This is a problem that involves all of us, Malfoy. Don't worry, you'll be taken care of,"

"Thank you, Potter,"

"Of course,"

When Harry left, Astoria turned to her husband.

"What are we supposed to do?" She asked.

"I have no idea," was all he could think to reply with.


	11. Worry

**A/N: Okay so I can't even excuse my own absence. I know this is a short chapter but It's the best I can do right now, sorry about that. Hope you enjoy what's here though!**

XXX

It had been two weeks since Blake had seen Scorpius. He hadn't even seen him in the Great Hall for any of the meals or in class. He had begun to wonder if something too terrible was wrong – he'd heard some of the other students talking about a wizarding hospital called St. Mungo's and he had checked the Hospital Wing but Madame Pomfrey had said that he wasn't there. It was obvious that there was something wrong, and Josh and Sam commented on one morning as they sat eating their breakfast.

"Are you alright?" Josh asked, picking up some toast.

"What? Yeah I'm fine," Blake muttered, sipping some orange juice.

"You're a terrible liar, mate," Sam said through a mouthful of bacon.

"You're disgusting when you eat with your mouth open," Blake shrugged, pretending to gag.

"So tell us what's wrong. You've been down for two weeks now," Josh urged.

"I'm worried about someone, that's all," Blake said curtly.

"You don't mean Scorpius Malfoy do you?" Josh asked quietly much to Blake's alarm. His eyes grew wide and stared at Josh like he'd just cast a hex on him.

"How do you know? Who told you?" Blake hissed.

"You're not exactly hard to notice," Sam said quietly, shrugging. "Disappearing with each other every Saturday, exchanging glances during meals and in class."

"I didn't realize that anyone had noticed…" Blake muttered.

"We only noticed because we're your friends. Have you written to him?" Josh asked, his dark eyebrows creased with concern.

"No, I was hoping he'd write me first,"

"You should write him. Send Andros – he hasn't had much work other than the occasional letter to and from your parents," Sam suggested.

"Okay… I guess I could do that. But what if I'm bothering him?" Blake said and then sighed.

"Blake I doubt a letter making sure that he's okay would bother him," Josh said, patting Blake's hand. "Now we'd better get going before Professor Finch-Fletchley assigns us detentions for being late."

XXX

A week later, Blake was still miserable. He had checked every morning for the last three days hoping to see Andros coming in with the post, a letter attached to his leg, but there hadn't been any sign of him so far. Blake trudged up to the Great Hall with Sam and Josh and sound down and nibbled on some toast. When the post arrived, Blake glanced up out of habit but was getting ready to return back to his toast when he saw one of the owls flying straight to him – Andros had finally arrived, and there was a letter attached to his leg.

Andros came in quickly, landing on the table and nipped some kippers off of the table as he stuck his leg out for Blake to remove the letter. It was written in emerald ink, and as Blake removed the letter he noticed that there was a heavy wax seal with the letter 'M' on it.

Sam eyed the letter as Andros took off. "That took long enough. What d'you reckon is going on?" He asked.

"Not sure, but the green isn't Scorpius's handwriting. It must be his father's," Blake said, stowing the letter into his robes. "I'll read it later – when there are less prying eyes."

"Let us know what he says," Josh said, offering a gentle smile.

"Of course I will," Blake said, more to himself than to the other two boys.

It wasn't until the lunch hour that Blake finally got a chance to read the letter. He bypassed the Great Hall in favor of the Hufflepuff dormitories and was panting by the time he got to his bed. Sitting down heavily, he extracted the letter, broke the seal, and removed a single piece of parchment.

 _Blake Avis,_

 _Thank you for your concern in Scorpius. I wasn't aware how close the two of you had become. Not that it matters. There has been a… problem, and I'm afraid that we have left the country. You must not tell anyone. Our whereabouts are secret, and you have only received this letter out of the strictest confidences of the Auror office that no more letters shall come or leave from our present location until the danger has passed. Please do not be worried – things like this happen from time to time, and Scorpius shall return to your friendship before you realize it._

 _Yours,_

 _Draco L. Malfoy_

He stared at the letter, not quite believing what he was reading. What danger could be strong enough that an entire family had to go into hiding, especially a _wizarding_ family? Surely there had to be more to this than what Mr. Malfoy had sent in the letter? It wasn't until the first tear dropped onto the letter, smudging a few letters, that Blake realized he was crying.

It took him a few minutes and a few gasps for air before he was calm enough to breathe normally. He was worried for Scorpius's wellbeing. If they had to take Scorpius with them, away from Hogwarts, it must be very serious. And with that, he removed his wand and placed the letter in the fire place and cast a quick spell to make the letter catch flame. He wouldn't endanger the Malfoy's by allowing anyone to know about what happened. But now he faced a dilemma. Could he trust Josh and Sam to let them know about what happened?

It wasn't long after he had set the letter on fire that Sam and Josh came into the dormitory, eyeing Blake curiously.

"Did you read the letter?" Sam asked, sitting down on his bed.

"Yeah," Blake said. "But I don't know if I should tell you. It's bad."

"Come on, if you can't trust us then who _can_ you trust?" Josh reasoned.

"Well it's not a normal situation – Mr. Malfoy said I shouldn't tell anyone and that I'm not allowed to respond or expect any more letters," Blake said, bewildered.

"C'mon mate, we're not gonna tell anyone. Promise," Sam said, all of his usual joking tone now gone.

"Oh alright. It isn't much more aside from what I already said, except they've left the country and the Aurors are involved,"

"Merlin's beard, that is bad. I wonder what could make them go. You don't reckon it has something to do with the Dark Mark story from the Prophet a while ago do you?" Josh asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Could be, but didn't the Prophet say that they caught whoever cast the spell?"

"That's what Sprout said. If only we knew someone who was an Auror," Sam said.

"Well I do – at least, I know one of the Auror's sons. Albus Potter and his family are here at Hogwarts – you don't reckon they might know anything do you?" Blake asked.

"Not a clue – I don't think Harry Potter would be talking about Dark Wizards in his home though. He had enough of that when he was younger," Sam said.

"Well there wouldn't be any harm in asking. I guess I could talk to him during Herbology…" Blake said, staring into the fireplace where the last of the letter had finally crumbled to ashes.

"C'mon, we'd better go before we're late for Potions," Josh said kindly.

Potions passed by with a slowness that Blake wasn't accustomed to. When Professor Corner finally let them leave, he was the first out of the room with Sam and Josh following him quickly. He needed to ask Albus if he knew anything about the Malfoy's situation, but he wasn't sure how to go about doing it. He knew that the Potters had some kind of a grudge against the Malfoys, but he wasn't entirely sure what that might be.

He had just entered the greenhouse and made a beeline for the table the three Hufflepuffs normally shared with Albus and Rose when Professor Longbottom called his name.

"Mr. Avis, step outside with me for just a moment. The rest of you, get started on those," He said, indicating a bunch of pots and bags of dragon dung.

Blake clenched his teeth and followed the professor outside of the Greenhouse and around the corner so that they couldn't see the rest of the class inside.

"Blake, I know that you're worried about Scorpius, but you mustn't trying to get any more information out of Albus. He doesn't know anything," Professor Longbottom said, eyeing him seriously.

"What? Professor, I wasn't –" Blake started only to have Professor Longbottom raise his hand.

"I was in the common room earlier while you and the boys were talking, and some of it carried. Don't worry, I've spoken to Albus's father about this already and he says that he can't give any more information other than they're currently safe. You should focus your energies on your studies and not worry about the Malfoys," He said, before putting his hand out toward the greenhouse.

"Of course professor," Blake said before trudging back into the greenhouse.


End file.
